


Visions (of You and I)

by marinstan



Series: Feels Like Home [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Harry Potter, Domestic Fluff, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Harry Potter Needs a Hug, Healer Draco Malfoy, Hurt/Comfort, Kisses in the Shower, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Okay about the sex:, Praise Kink (a bit), Rimming, Sex in a bed, Sex on a table, Slow Burn (not THAT slow though), Top Draco Malfoy, lycanthropy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:54:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 46,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24306250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marinstan/pseuds/marinstan
Summary: Harry Potter would do anything for his godson. Even hire Draco Malfoy as a healer.Or: Harry really just wants to be loved (as does Draco - he just doesn't know it yet).
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Feels Like Home [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1754725
Comments: 103
Kudos: 607





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to try out a different dynamic with this fic - take another approach to the characters of Draco and Harry (and with that I mean I'm usually Team Bottom Draco but forced myself to switch it up lol).  
> For most of the werewolf facts, I stayed true to Cannon, but a few, I made up.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

Shouts of indignation follow me as I push the winged doors to St. Mungo's open, letting in a rush of icy air. I don't give a fuck about all the people whining. They have no idea.

The street is slippery with snow and ice, my face burning as if pierced by a thousand needles. I turn on the spot and apparate back to Andromeda's house.

I land in the yard, only barely catching myself before I fall, slowly regaining my balance. My chest is heaving, a scream forming in my throat. I stare at the front door, then turn and head past the house, my steps getting faster until I'm running, into the fields behind the building, leaving footsteps in the snow that will soon be covered with a fresh layer of white.

I run until the house disappears behind a hill. Then, I drop to my knees, wetness soaking my jeans in seconds. I fall forward onto my hands, fingers blue. My head is swimming.

I open my mouth and let the scream out.

When I'm back at the house, frozen and empty, Andromeda and Teddy are already waiting for me.

„You're wet,“ Teddy states, wriggling out of Andromeda's arms to pad over to me. 

I smile as I sink to my knees and pick him up. He lets out a sound of protest as my dead hands touch his body. „And you're cold.“

„Yeah, it's snowing,“ I point out.

Teddy fists one tiny hand in my hair. His own hair is turning into a slightly tamer version of my dark strands.

„So we can build a snowman?“ His eyes are gleaming.

Then he yawns. My heart clenches, painfully.

„Tomorrow, alright? It's nap time now.“

Andromeda's eyes meet mine and whenever I look at her, I remember that I'm not alone in this. Even though part of me wishes I was. Andromeda is the last person who deserves this kind of pain. She's had her fair share of it already.

„I'm not tired,“ Teddy murmurs, resting his head on my shoulder. His eyelids are fluttering.

I carry him upstairs and tuck him in, his hair taking on a matt blue – resting stage.

„Sweet dreams, kiddo,“ I say, petting his hair and then getting up.

I set the charms anew that will inform Andromeda and I as soon as he wakes up or his breathing pattern changes drastically.

When that is done, I return to the living room, rubbing my hands, trying to get some feeling in my fingers again.

„Drink that,“ Andromeda says, holding out a mug with steaming tea.

I take it and put it to my numb lips.

„Are you okay?“ she asks me.

I swallow.

„Shouldn't I be asking you?“

She just raises an eyebrow at me.

„No, I'm... not really okay. I mean – what do we do now?“

The woman that has quickly become one of my closest friends raises her chin, looking down at me.

„We'll do what they suggest. Find someone else.“

I nod. I don't need to tell her that I don't really believe anyone will be able to heal Teddy if St. Mungo's can't. They have a splendid reputation in Europe and our healers are certainly among the best worldwide. The German healthcare system might be a lot more social than ours, with larger capacities, but if it comes to the competence of the healers, I wouldn't know where else to look.

Since the other option is giving up though, I guess I'll find out soon.

The cottage Ron and Hermione bought is completely snowed in, its roof covered in a thick blanket of white. It's a beautiful view, but I'm freezing my arse off and can't quite appreciate it.

I stomp through the snow and knock on the door.

As most of the time, I have to wait a while until someone opens.

„Harry. How nice to see you.“ Hermione's smile is genuine, yet I recognize the signs of stress and permanent exhaustion in her frizzy hair, the dark shadows rimming her eyes and various stains on her shirt.

„Rose, say hello to Uncle Harry.“

The baby sitting on her hip, little fists clutching her hair, stares at me out of big blue eyes.

„Hi, Rosie.“

She coos something, then hiccups. Hermione sighs annoyed and fumbles for her wand, cleaning Rose's face.

„Come in.“

Inside the cottage, it's pleasantly warm and I shrug off my jacket, hanging it on the rack and toeing off my shoes.

„Tea?“ Hermione calls.

„Yes, please.“

I find her in the kitchen. Ignoring the dishes in the sink and the pots on the stove, I make room on the counter and hop on, eyeing the kettle hopefully.

„Excuse the mess,“ Hermione says. „Ron seems to believe just because I'm currently stuck here, I'd be happy to do the dishes every day.“

„I'd be surprised if Ron actually believed that,“ I say, smiling just a little.

Hermione quirks a smile. „Probably not.“

Since Ron finally got appointed and is now a full-fledged member of the Aurorforce, he's gone for at least nine, often ten or eleven, hours of the day. I honestly think that Hermoine will endure this for another six months at most, before she'll throw the towel and start looking for a nanny.

„How's Teddy?“ Hermione asks, motioning for me to get my tea, since she doesn't want Rose to grab it and burn her fingers. I summon it, so that it's my fingers instead of the babies that get roasted.

„Not good,“ I say, staring at the cup. „St. Mungo's just told us they're out of ideas. They don't know what's wrong.“

Hermione blinks at me, eyes full of compassion.

„Oh, Harry. I'm so sorry.“

I shrug, hands trembling slightly. „Well.“ I take a sip, then set the tea down and clutch my hands in my lap.

„Do you have a plan?“ 

Rose starts whining, so Hermione rocks her in an attempt to soothe the baby.

„Not really. I mean, we'll go looking for another healer. But I don't know where. I actually hoped you might be able to help me with that.“

Hermione frowns, but it's her insecure frown, not the _No-Ron-I-won't-let-you-copy-my-homework_ frown. „I don't know, Harry. I'm really not an expert when it comes to healing.“

„Yeah, just... Any idea where to look? I feel like we've already consulted every single professional in Britain. Andi will start looking in other countries, but...“

Hermione nods, so I don't have to finish my sentence. „You could try Germany. I believe there is an excellent hospital in Tübingen.“

She switches Rose from one hip to the other, resuming the gentle rocking motions. „Or France, of course. St. Florence is supposed to have very competent healers.“

„St. Florence?“

„In Montpellier.“

Rose starts crying. Hermoine shuts her eyes for a moment. „I just changed her diaper. She also can't be hungry. So what is it, Rosie?“

The baby's answer is another high-pitched cry.

I slip off the counter. „Do you want me to help you?“

Hermione just shakes her head, clearly annoyed, but also in full-on mummy-mode. „No. She hates strangers lately.“

„I'm hardly a stranger.“

My words are almost drowned out by Rose's crying.

„To Rose, everyone's a stranger but me and, on good days, Ron.“

I know she's right. I'm not here as often as I used to, but still often enough to be aware that Hermione doesn't come without Rose anymore.

„I'll leave you to it, then.“

With a sigh, Hermione brings me to the door. „I wish Teddy all the best,“ she says earnestly.

„I'll tell him,“ I say and head back out into the cold.

I'm already half asleep and decidedly drunk when the flames of my fireplace turn green.

„Harry.“

I blink, trying to focus. Andromeda's head is floating in the flames and I think she's clicking her tongue impatiently. I push myself off the sofa and kneel on the rug, staring bleary eyed into the fireplace.

„What is it?“

„Are you drunk?“

I rub my eyes. „Just a little.“

Another disapproving click. „I think I found a healer,“ she says.

I'm wide awake now. „Really? Who?“

„He's been recommended to my by St. Florence. I've looked into them, as you said, and his name kept coming up.“

„Sounds promising. What's his name?“ The short pause makes me frown. „What?“ 

„It's Draco Malfoy.“

I stare at her. „You're joking.“

Of all people I knew at Hogwarts, Malfoy would be the last one to become a healer. I don't think he has one healing bone in his body.

„I am not.“

„Malfoy? A _healer_?“

„A very good one, apparently.“ Her face is dead serious and my astonishment turns into defense.

„No way. No. We're not letting him near Teddy.“

Andromeda's hand appears in the flames as she brushes her hair back.

„I know that his reputation isn't the best and that you personally have some history with him. But we can't let that influence our decision. Teddy needs the best.“

„Yeah, and Malfoy isn't the best! I don't trust him.“

Andromeda's look is warm and chiding at the same time. „Harry, he won't have cheated his way to the reputation he has among his French colleagues.“

„I think that's exactly what he did,“ I fume. My blood is hot and threatening to burst through my veins. 

Draco Malfoy. No way.

„Don't be silly.“ There is a short silence, during which my hands are digging into my thighs. „I'm not asking you to like him, but you need to be respectful. Okay?“

I spit out a laugh. „Respectful? Malfoy doesn't deserve respect, Andi. He's done horrible things. He almost _killed_ Ron.“

The witch's eyebrows draw together. „You spoke for him at the trials.“

That makes me pause for a moment. „Yeah, I did. Because they'd have thrown him into Azkaban if I had said anything negative. I didn't want to be responsible for that.“

„Because you didn't think he deserved it.“

The childish urge to object just for the sake of it is almost overwhelming, but I push it down. 

„No, I don't think he'd have deserved it. But I don't trust him. I don't think he's a good person.“

„Frankly, I don't really care what kind of person he is. I only care about what kind of healer he makes. And a lot of people believe he makes a brilliant one.“

I'm quiet. „But... who would've even let him enroll in healer training?“ I ask. I can't believe St. Mungo's would have ever taught a former Death Eater.

„St. Florence, apparently. They base their selection on anonymous tests and a personal interview.“

I try picturing Malfoy as a healer and fail. But one look in Andromeda's face makes it clear that she has made her decision already.

„If you've found someone better, pray tell,“ the witch says.

Of course I haven't found anyone better.

„I don't trust him,“ I repeat.

„That's alright. Trust has to be earned. But I'm willing to give him a chance, if he might be the one to save Teddy.“

I swallow. The fire is hot on my skin. „Fine. It's your decision, not mine. I'm just saying... don't get your hopes up. I really don't think Malfoy is going to be the solution.“

The sigh Andromeda lets out makes me want to take my words back.

„Don't you worry about that, Harry. My hopes haven't been up in a long time.“

* * *

A snowflake catches on my lashes, glitter blurring my vision. I blink it away and it falls to the ground to join its sisters.

The cold in England is bone-chilling, but the landscape of white feels like a warm blanket wrapping around my shoulders. As beautiful as France is, Malfoys belong to the winter. Always have and always will. 

My footsteps are nearly soundless in the fresh, powdery snow, only the faintest scrunching sounds disturb the eerie silence. My gait has always been quiet.  
As I get closer to my destination, a tall, dark house in Muggle London, the snow-induced ease is slowly melting from my bones, leaving my heart fluttering. 

It's been a while.

I reach the door to the house and take a minute to straighten my perfectly straight spine, to smooth down my coat that doesn't need any smoothing, before I ring the doorbell. The following silence gives me just enough time to contemplate why this is a bad idea.

A buzz startles me and I push the door open. I'll never understand why muggles use such a horrid noise, startling their guests before they even set foot in the building.

It's chilly in the hallway and the staircases I have to ascend are steep. On the third floor, a door is opened.

A girl – a _woman_ , really – is leaning in the doorframe, regarding me with dark eyes. Her hair is several inches shorter from when I last saw her, only just brushing her shoulders in a shiny bob. A black skirt barely reaches the top of her tights clad thighs and the jumper she's wearing must be cashmere.

I wonder if she dressed up for me. I doubt this is how she usually lounges on her bed.

„Hello, Pansy.“

Brown eyes are sweeping over my face, mapping out my features as I am mapping out hers.

„Draco. It's been, what? Five years?“

„It feels even longer,“ I say.

She studies me for one moment longer, then steps aside. „Come in.“

I follow her into the flat. It's rather large, with a big, open living room and a modern kitchen that I'm sure Pansy never uses.

„Would you like a drink?“ she asks. „I certainly need one.“

I take off my coat and watch her turn, walking to the kitchen, not waiting for my response. She has put on a little weight, her hips runder and legs more shapely. Gone is the bony girl I used to know.

„You look good,“ I tell her - to flatter her, but also because it's true.

She flicks her wand. A crystal glass filled with white wine is soaring toward me. I catch it out of the air.

„So do you,“ she says.

„Thanks.“

We look at each other, two metres distance between us that feel insurmountable.

The awkwardness builds between us. I swallow a lump clogging my throat and gingerly put my glass of wine on the sofa table.

„And thank you for taking me in,“ I add.

Pansy arches a brow and takes a swig from her glass. „You've got some nerve, darling.“

I wince and open my mouth, but before I can say anything to that, she flashes me a perfect smile and says: „I'll show you to your bedroom.“

Her skirt swings around her legs as she heads toward a white door, pushing it open.

„All yours,“ she says and I step into the rather small, white room. 

The centerpiece is a cozy looking bed with green covers that seems to be calling to my tired limbs. A closet made out of light wood is set up on the right wall, a big window next to the bed.

„You must be tired,“ Pansy says. „Bathroom is to the left.“

„Alright. Thank you.“

Pansy avoids my gaze. „Goodnight,“ she says and closes the door behind her. I stare at it for a moment, then sigh and pull my shrunken suitcase out of my pocket and, with a swish of my wand, bring it back to its normal size.

For a moment, I think about getting started on unpacking, but the thought alone is enough to have exhaustion surging through me. 

I'll do it tomorrow. Maybe it will help me keeping my nerves at bay, helping me to scrape up the courage I'll need for the day.

Pansy is shrugging on an elegant black coat when I enter the kitchen, already showered and fully dressed.

„Morning,“ I say.

„Help yourself.“ She nods curtly into the vague direction of the fridge.

„I'll grab something on the way. Knowing you, you probably only have coffee and chocolate in store, don't you?“

One corner of her mouth twitches.

„If you take any of my chocolate, I'll expect you to replace it before I notice.“

With a swoosh of her coat, she's out the door.

I follow her as soon as I've gathered my belongings and put on my own coat, bracing myself for the cold.

„Here you go, sir.“

The barista smiles at me, his nose ring shining in the light. He sports a head full of brown curls and endearing dimples. His fingers brush mine as he hands me my cup of black coffee.

I pick out a table in the corner, not wanting to be disturbed. As usually, I burn my mouth with the first sip.

With slow fingers, I spread out the files and parchments I've been carrying around with me for weeks now. They're not crumpled – I wouldn't ever let important papers of mine get crumpled – but they are smooth to the touch from sifting through them so often.

I'm aware that I'm stalling, sitting in this muggle coffee shop and being ogled by cute twinks. I know the content of these files by heart. Yet the need to be prepared, to give the impression of a flawless professional, has me pulling them out again and again.

I _am_ a professional. And I _am_ good at my job. But while in France, the only reason for anyone to doubt me has been my youth, things are looking quite different in England.

It's not my youth people find disconcerting here. It's me. My face, my talk and my name.

And _especially_ my new patient will not be too pleased to have a Malfoy working his case. More specifically, his family won't.

I sigh and take a swig from my cup, the temperature of the coffee now just right. The best thing about discovering the muggle world has definitely been finding out about all their great beverages. I don't think I'll ever be able to go back to pumpkin juice and butterbeer after tasting coffee and gin tonic. Even though I don't think I'll ever say no to a good firewhiskey.

My fingers trace the paper. I can't even read it anymore, because after the first two words, my brain supplies all the rest and my eyes refuse to even skim the page once again.

As I said, I'm stalling.

The twink barista has left his place behind the counter and is now cleaning a table not far from mine. 

I can't say I'm surprised when he comes over to mine and slips a napkin with a phone number into my hand, winking at me.

Good looks have always been a trademark of the Malfoys. My mother used to tell me we have Veela ancestors and the older I get, the more likely I believe that to be. Because while I'll be the first one to confirm I'm very attractive, I do feel like the amount of attention I recieve from all genders is rather unusual. It probably really has to do with some traces of Veela allure lingering around.

I smile at the boy, vaguely, because I doubt I'll ever call his number – even though I finally mastered the art of using a cellphone. It's not easy.

Draining my coffee, I get up and gather my papers, while the barista returns to the counter. Part of me would rather stay, maybe work on some of my private projects or just read a book and enjoy a sandwich and a flat white. But I have work to do.

And stalling will not make Harry Potter hate me any less.

I don't think I've ever been to Andromeda Tonks's house, even though she's my aunt. My mother's sister.

The thought of my mother drags up rather unpleasant feelings, so I quickly push it out of my mind.

I make my way through the yard, elegant suitcase dangling from my left hand, and knock on the door.

It takes no more than a second before it is opened by a woman that looks so much like Bellatrix that I flinch. Great first impression.

„Mrs. Tonks?“ I ask.

The name feels wrong now. While my mother has always looked like a Malfoy, much more than like a Black, Andromeda is the embodiement of the Black name, with her dark hair and eyes, the proud chin and nose.

„Draco?“

I hold out my hand for her. „A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Tonks. I hope St. Florence notified you?“

She nods slowly. „Yes, of course. I knew you were coming.“ She steps aside. „Come in, please.“

I smile at her, hoping she doesn't see how nervous I am, and step into the house. It's quiet. A kind of quiet I've learned only comes with the sick or dying.

„Would you like to drink something?“ Andromeda asks me.

To be polite, I nod. „That would be great, thank you.“

With a flick of her wand, she summons two glasses of water. „How does it feel, being back in England? I'm sure you must miss the sun.“

I take a sip from my glass. „Not too much. I've always loved snow. Also, it's rather chilly in Montpellier now as well.“

Andromeda nods thoughtfully. Her eyes are piercing, so much so, they almost remind me of Severus. His eyes always seemed to see straight through me. „I don't mean to be rude, Draco. But when the healers told me it would be you they planned to send over, I was surprised. And a little skeptical.“

I nod, drawing up my walls. „I understand. If you'd rather look for someone else, I could help you. There is a lot of trust required between patient and healer. But I will have you know that I take my job very seriously. I'm brilliant at it.“

Andromeda's lips quirk. „You misunderstand.“

The witch cocks her head. She's almost as tall as me. I don't think I know any witch as tall as her.

„I don't judge you for your parents' actions. Afterall, I'm your mother's sister. And Bellatrix's. We don't choose the families we're born into.“

I swallow. 

I hoped that Andromeda wouldn't hate me for who I am, but I didn't expect her to take such a neutral stand. 

„It's not only my parents who commited horrible crimes,“ I say quietly, because I think I have to.

Andromeda holds my gaze. „I know that. But, to be frank, it doesn't matter that much to me. You didn't do anything I couldn't forget, not to my family, so all I care about is if you can heal my grandson.“ She looks at her glass. „You are very young, Draco. To me, you're almost still a child. I'm just... unsure if you could possibly have the knowledge needed to help Teddy.“

I give her one of my reassuring smiles. „I completely understand your concerns, but they're unfunded. I might be young, but I'm one of the best in the field when it comes to lycanthropy and related illnesses. You can trust me.“

Dark eyes hold mine for a moment, then she nods curtly. „Alright, then. May I show you the patient?“

I follow her upstairs, every other step creaking. I'm not sure if it's the season or if the house just is on the darker side, with its narrow hallways and dark wood.

In front of another dark, sturdy door, cool fingers wrap around my wrist.

„Harry is here,“ Andromeda says without preamble and my heart jolts, going into overdrive. „I know that the two of you had your differences. I hope it's self-explainatory that you won't indulge in any petty fights or even jabs in front of my ill grandson.“

„Of course,“ I say, my voice tinged with a hint of annoyance. „I'm professional.“

„Brilliant.“

„It has never been Potter's strong suit though to keep his mouth shut though,“ I add.

Andromeda arches a brow at me. „I've already talked to Harry. He'll be civil. Afterall, he's as worried about Teddy as I am.“

She opens the door, softly, and I follow her inside. 

The first thing I notice is the smell of the room. Little kid, illness and something that kept wafting through the classrooms in Hogwarts, making me turn up my nose in pretend haughtiness.

After all that claiming of being a professional, the first thing I notice isn't my patient. 

It's Potter.

He's sitting on a small mattress, next to his godson, reading to him. The mess of black hair is a giveaway, as are his striking eyes, covered by hideous glasses. The five years that have passed since I last saw him didn't do him much good. He's still rather scrawny and while I do think that he looks older, he also looks as tired as I remember him.

Our eyes lock, until I remember myself and look at the person I'm here for.

Teddy Tonks is five years old, just starting to outgrow the toddler. His hair is a matt blue and he's leaning against Potter's side, little hands clutching his shirt. He turns to look at me, big brown eyes not necessarily suspicious, but wary.

Working with children has never been my forte, I will admit as much. I can do it when necessary, but I like adults better. I'm not very good with tuning into a child's mind, a child's needs. I could blame it on the fact that I don't have siblings or that my parents expected me to act like a grown-up since the age of four, but maybe it's just me.

„Hello, Teddy,“ I say, deciding to ignore Potter and his blazing eyes for now.

After a moment of indecision, I crouch down so I'm not towering over the child. „My name is Draco Malfoy. I'm a healer.“

The boy's eyes are fixed on mine. One of many things I don't like about children. They feel entitled to stare at you for as long as they damn well please.

„What about Brighton?“ Teddy asks, turning to Potter now.

„Brighton said it would be a good idea to have someone else take a look at you, kiddo. I told you Malfoy would come all the way from France to see you, remember?“

Teddy doesn't give any indication that he does, but maybe he simply doesn't want to.

I can feel Potter's gaze on me.

„You can call me Draco,“ I say to Teddy. „I'll run a few general tests, alright? It won't take long and it won't hurt,“ I assure him.

Potter throws me a look.

„Teddy knows that.“

I choose to ignore that little comment and draw my wand.

„Would you...?“

Potter hesitates, then scoots away from Teddy, who looks after him.  
I wonder if Potter lives here. I didn't think he does, but I never really asked. Andromeda is Teddy's legal guardian, not Potter, but I wouldn't at all be surprised if Potter, always the Saviour, dedicated his life to his sick godson.

I focus on Teddy. 

„Hold out your arm, please.“

The boy does. It's obvious he's had a lot of check-ups like this one over the years.

I run all the usual spells to check his bodily functions. They don't tell me anything I didn't already know from his files.

His heartbeat is too slow for a kid his age. His magical core is weakend, but it's unclear how exactly. Usually, there are either traces of magical stress put upon the core (usually caused by a curse or hex and fading over time), nor is it due to malnourishment, desease or dehydration. In very rare cases, mental illnesses can affect the magical core as well, but with a kid his age, I think it is safe to disregard that possibility. We know that he doesn't suffer from any genetic disorder and Andromeda said several times that there hadn't been any traumatic event that could have caused such a thing. Also, the boy doesn't show any sign of trauma.

The cause must be physical. Or magical, perhaps, but not mental.

„Does it hurt when I do this?“ I ask, tapping my wand lightly against the inside of Teddy's right wrist.

He shudders a little, but not in pain.

„It tickles,“ he says.

I watch him for a moment, waiting for the outburst of magic that should occure. It doesn't.

„How often does he experience accidental magic?“ I ask without taking my eyes off Teddy.

Children can't control their magic, or only very little. Intense emotions often lead to an outbreak of magic. My spell was supposed to trigger Teddy's magic, but it doesn't.

„Not often,“ Andromeda says.

Potter looks up at her, then at me.

„Never, actually,“ he says.

One of my eyebrows rises. „Really? I don't think it's in the files.“

I can hear Andromeda shifting her weight behind me. „I think there have been two or three occasions. He once stopped the tab from leaking.“

I frown. If I'm honest, I doubt that the leaking tab had anything to do with the boy in front of me. It doesn't sound like accidental magic. It sounds like Andromeda is desperate.

„And he always morphs. That's magic, too,“ she adds.

„He does? Can he control it?“ 

„Not well,“ Potter answers and the moment I look at him, I'm eighteen again. Frightened, terrified and feeling my skin melt. I thought I'd die in that Room of Hidden Things. I thought I'd burn and part of me thought I deserved it.

But then Potter pulled me up on his broomstick, saved me from the flames.

„It usually happens involuntarily, I think. I feel like his haircolour mirrors his mood,“ Potter goes on.

I pull myself together. „Does he perform more complicated morphs as well?“

Potter looks at the little boy who is watching me with parted lips.

„Sometimes he grows out his teeth or his ears. Don't you, Teddy?“ The Gryffindor smiles at Teddy, and the little boy returns it, his hair turning a faint pink.

„So a normal stage of development for a metamorphmagus,“ I muse, watching Teddy.

„Yes. Nymphadora was the same around that age. Only she could already morph her nose, too. She did it often to amuse me.“

I can hear the fondness and the pain in Andromeda's voice. A mother that has lost her daughter.

My legs are starting to hurt from all the crouching, so I sit down, crossing my legs and studying Teddy's face.

„I'd like to take a closer look at your magical core, Teddy,“ I say. „But to do so, I must make you sleep.“

The little boy nods. I'm sure he is no stranger to aneasthesia.

Potter's eyes are locked on my face as he drapes an arm around Teddy's small shoulders.

„No stunning spells, Malfoy.“

I give him a mildly offended look, only just able to keep from snapping at him.

„I'm well aware not to use stunning spells on children if possible.“ Especially not on weak ones like Teddy. „Would you leave the room, please?“

During a magical core examination, it's vital that no other magical beings are around. Otherwise, their magic can bleed into the spell and distort the result.

„Alright,“ Andromeda says. She passes me and brushes a kiss to Teddy's head. „It'll just be a minute, dear.“

Teddy, unafraid, nods at her.

Potter takes longer to get up, squeezing Teddy's hand, then leaning forward until he is close enough that I can feel his body heat.

„If you hurt him, Malfoy, I'll destroy your life,“ he breathes into my ear, then gets up and follows Andromeda out of the room.

* * *

„Please stop that,“ Andromeda says sharply and I force myself to stop jiggling my leg.

I'm always fidgeting, lately. Everyone always complains about it, but I can't seem to reign it in.

„He's taking long,“ I say sullenly.

Andromeda doesn't honour that with an answer, just keeps on flipping through her magazine, legs tucked up on the sofa.

Unable to sit still any longer, I get up. Just as I've turned to get some more coffee, Malfoy appears in the doorframe.

He has changed since our school days. His face, while still sharp, has filled out a little bit, softening the jut of his chin and cheekbones. Strands of blond hair now fall freely over his forehead, no longer slicked back.

While his build is still rather slender, his shoulders appear broader, his torso more muscly.

All in all, one could say Malfoy has grown into his looks. I hate him for it, because I know that I never have.

The biggest change though isn't his physical appearance, but the way he carries himself. Gone is the permanent downturn of his mouth, the comically raised chin. Instead of arrogance, he know moves with a deliberate confidence.

„You took your time,“ I say, because I'm apparently unable to act like an adult.

Malfoy raises one of his brows at me – I guess some things never change – and says: „Core examinations always take time, Potter.“

I want to snap at him that I know that. Teddy's had a handful of them over the years. 

„What is your assessment of the situation, Draco?“ Andromeda has gotten up, now standing next to me.

Malfoy frowns a little, pushing his hair back with one pale, long-fingered hand.

„I hope it's alright if I call you Draco,“ the witch adds. „I'm not intending to be disrespectful. But you're my nephew and younger than my daughter would be, so everything else would feel a tad stilted.“

„I don't think it's disrespectful. Draco is fine,“ he says. He puts his wand into the pocket of his coat. „I haven't learned anything you don't already know. But I do find it very interesting that it seems like Teddy's morphing... isn't quite in tune with his other magical abilities.“

I frown. „How do you mean, _not in tune_?“

Malfoy's eyes find mine for a moment, then he looks away, eyes pensive.

„I can't quite explain it yet or even find the right words, but somehow, it seems to me like his morphing would be... detached from his core. Which isn't usually the case.“

I can tell that Andromeda is exhilirated about those news. „No one ever said that before.“

Malfoy tilts his head. „As I said, I'm not yet able to make any sense of it, but I'll look into it. I'd also like to run a couple more tests. Maybe in two days? I don't want to exhaust Teddy after today's examination.“

„Whenever you deem right,“ Andromeda says and I force myself not to object.

I don't want Malfoy near Teddy, but even I have to admit that Malfoy seems to know a thing or two about magic. 

Malfoy nods. „I'll see you in two days, then.“

„I'm looking forward to it. Harry, will you show Draco out?“

I don't dare glaring at her. „I think I'll leave as well,“ is all I say.

Neither Malfoy nor I talk until we reach the apparition point. 

„Potter,“ he says as I get ready to turn into the oppressive darkness.

I look into Malfoy's pale face. „What?“

I hate that he has at least three inches on me. Probably more, if I'm honest. I hate having to look up to him.

„I know you hate me. But I only want to do my job. You being hostile will only complicate things.“

My eyes are narrowed. „I'm not being hostile.“

One blond eyebrow rises. I stare at Malfoy unimpressed.

„I'm _not_. Hostile would have been to kick you out of the house like I _wanted_ to.“

Malfoy lifts his chin, the haughty look I know so well back on his features.

„I'm trying to be mature here.“

„You've never been mature.“

Flaming pale eyes lock with mine.

„If you insist on being a child, Potter, have at it. But it's your godson that's dying in that house over there. Not mine.“

I want to punch him. Hex him. Anything to make him hurt.

„I hate you,“ I say, as surprised as he is at the words coming out of my mouth.

I don't think I ever told him. I'm not even sure it's true.

After five years, Hogwarts feels far, far away and sometimes, I have trouble recalling what Malfoy even did to me that made me so angry at him. Yes, he let the Death Eaters into the castle, but I know he didn't want to. He spat ugly insults at me and my friends. I sliced his chest open and almost killed him.

Our history is ugly, but I'm not sure I actually _hate_ Draco Malfoy.

But right now, right here, the feeling is so intense that I almost lunge at him.

„Alright, Potter. Hate me all you want. But don't keep me from helping your kid.“

I want to tell him that Teddy isn't really mine – just as Rose isn't mine. As Ron and Hermione aren't really mine anymore.  
But I say nothing.

Malfoy beats me to it and apparates before I can.

I know it's not wise to travel in time when emotionally unstable, but the periods during which I feel emotionally stable are short and few in between, so I decide to fuck it and take out my time turner anyway.

Armed with my father's cloak, I slip the golden necklace over my head and start turning.

* * *

Pansy is out when I get back to her flat, exhausted and faintly angry.

I know I have no right to. Potter, on the other hand, has every right to be mad at me. To hate me, even.

But it's one thing to acknowledge and accept that I have been wrong, that I've done terrible things that I'll need a whole lifetime to set them right again. It's another one to look into Potter's eyes and accept the fact that there is nothing I can do to make him not hate me anymore.

My younger self is roaring up inside me. Screaming that I had no choice. That I was taught the pureblood ideoligy before I learned to walk, that I was always so eager to please my stone cold father. That I only bullied Potter because I was so jealous of his friends. So jealous of him.

Maybe I could have explained if it were only the things I've done before I took the mark. Perhaps Potter would have had it in him to forgive me for my foul mouth and my bullying.

But I almost killed his best friend, took great part in Dumbledore's death and let a blood thirsty werewolf into Hogwarts.

I never expected to ever gain Potter's forgiveness for any of those things. Only now I realize that part of me craves it.

I roll my eyes at myself and try to cheer up with the thought of a long, hot shower. I've made it three steps toward the bathroom, when an urgent tap on my window captures my attention.

A brown, rather cute owl is flapping its wings impatiently.

„Pansy isn't here,“ I say as it hops inside, holding its leg out for me.

The owl coos and I take a look at the letter. It's just a piece of parchment, really. Seeing my hesitation, the owl picks at my hand. I glare at it and take the parchment.

 _Meet me at the apparitio point_ , it reads. 

It's signed with _HP_.

My eyebrows almost soar into my fringe. Quickly, I put the parchment down and rush back to the door, stepping into my shoes, shrugging my coat on and leaving the flat.

Potter would only write to me in a case of emergency and even though I'd expect Andromeda to write me before Potter would, I don't dwell on it for too long.  
I throw the door shut behind me and race to the next apparition point.

It's even colder now on the tiny hill looking over Andromeda's house. I manage half a look around, before I'm tackled to the ground. A wand is pressed into my throat and I'm faced with raging green eyes. Potter's slighter body is pressing me to the ground and I've never seen him this murderous before. 

„What the _fuck_ , Malfoy?“ he shouts, right into my face.

I stare at him.

„You tell me.“

The wand is now digging painfully into my throat. „What game are you playing?“ he hisses.

I think I could throw him off, if I really tried, but I also think that, right now, Potter will curse me if I try. So I remain still.

„What is this about?“ 

Potter is breathing heavily. „You know exactly what this is about.“

„As a matter of fact, I don't. I might be more intelligent than the average, but even I am not omniscient, Potter.“

The Gryffindor leans closer, his eyes cutting.

„Very funny. Now tell me or I'll hex you all the way back to France.“

I stare into his eyes and try to figure out what this is about. I come up with nothing.

„I don't know what you're talking about,“ I say, having trouble keeping my voice calm.

Potter's narrowed eyes study my face.

„You've been here before.“

„Easy on the details, Potter.“

„In England. You've been back before.“

I contemplate to try and throw him off anyway. „No, I haven't. Not since I left.“

„Bullshit!“

I'm starting to freeze despite the furnace on top of me. The ground seems to be purely made of ice.

„You came back four months ago and you saw me, Malfoy.“

Masking my confusion isn't easy. Potter seems to catch some of it, his eyes narrowing further.

„What do you mean, saw you?“

The wand on my neck trembles.

„You were here and you saw me and I _don't_ remember. What did you do? Obliviate me?“

A sudden urge of annoyance – anger, really – makes me forget about the consequences. I push Potter off of me and get up.

„I have no idea what you're talking about,“ I say as Potter scrambles up as well, wand still pointed at me.

„Now leave me the fuck alone.“

He could hex me, bind me or stun me, hurt me, but he doesn't. He lets me apparate away, leaving him on the hill. Maybe he's hoping I'll splinch myself to death.


	2. Chapter 2

„Draco. I didn't expect you today. Is everything alright?“ Andromeda waves me inside. „Tea?“

I shake my head, just barely keeping myself from shifting uncomfortably.

„I came to tell you that I'll quit,“ I say.

The witch freezes.

„Excuse me?“ Her stare reminds me of Bellatrix once more and it takes me all my willpower to keep my head high.

„I'm really sorry, Mrs. Tonks. But I think it's for the best.“

„Why?“ Her face is made of stone.

„I feel like the... bad blood between us will hinder my work. I'm sorry,“ I repeat.

Andromeda closes her eyes for a brief moment.

„What did Harry do?“

I can't hold her gaze anymore. „He has the right to hate me. I understand that he doesn't trust me.“

„But it's not his decision to make. It's mine. And I want you to stay,“ she says.

Before I can answer, the door opens. Potter walks in, looking like he hasn't slept a wink.

„I was just about to leave,“ I say cooly.

„No, wait! Please.“ Andromeda's eyes are almost pleading and I know what it takes to put such a look on a Black woman's face.

Potter is staring at me, then at Andromeda. He swallows. Bites his lip.

„Draco, I want you to stay. You're a capable healer and I _need_ one. I need you for Teddy.“

Stepping closer, Potter says: „Andi, he's not the right one. We can't trust him. I don't know the reason why he came back, but it's not to help Teddy.“

„Stop it, Harry. You're acting like a child.“

Potter's dark brows knit together, his eyes fiery. „He'll hurt him. It's all he does. We don't need him.“

I don't think any of us sees it coming when Andromeda lifts her hand and slaps Potter. The sound of her palm on his cheek is loud in the quiet room and Potter's head flies to the right. My hand flies to my wand.

Potter doesn't turn his head back for a few long moments. The print of Andromeda's fingers are stark against his skin.

„I'm sorry,“ the witch says quietly. „But I need you to get over yourself, Harry. You can't see clearly.“

Potter drops his gaze. Nods. „Alright. I'll leave you.“

* * *

I only make it into the yard until I hear steps behind me.

„Potter.“

I don't turn around. My cheek stings with shame. Humiliation.

„Potter, wait.“

The steps are coming closer and I halt, staring straight ahead. Malfoy catches up to me. Steps into my sight.

„I told her I wanted to quit,“ he says.

„I figured,“ I say, avoiding the gaze of his grey eyes.

„What do you need me to do to trust me? Trust me to do my _job_.“

Something in his voice makes me look at him.

„Explain to me how it's possible that you were here three months ago, talking to me, and I don't remember anything.“

„I can't, because I don't remember anything like that, either.“

I stare at him. He seems genuine. But I assume Malfoy is a good liar. He must be, if he survived with his parents and cooped up under a roof with a horde of Deah Eaters.

„How is that possible?“

Malfoy's eyes are searching my face. I look away.

I know I look dreadful. I've been awake for... I don't even know. More than twenty-four hours. I'm tired and worn-out.

„Why don't we move somewhere warmer and you tell me everything about this... incident?“

„Planning to murder me, Malfoy?“

The blond almost smiles.

„I have no wish to join my father in Azkaban. So, no.“

I stare for a little longer, trying to decide what to do. „Alright, fine. But we're not going to mine.“

Malfoy nods curtly and before I know what's happening, he has grabbed my arm and I'm side-alonged.

„A coffee shop?“

I eye the shop suspiciously. It seems modern and cozy and undeniably muggle. The last place on earth I'd ever expected to find Malfoy in.

„Diagon Alley is a little too crowded for my tastes,“ the Slytherin says and I follow him dumbly into the shop.

„What are you having?“ he asks me, beelining to the counter.

„You want to have coffee with me?“

„It would be rude not to buy anything.“

„I don't care,“ I mumble and turn, looking for a quiet table.

Malfoy returns with two cups, setting one down in front of me. I hold it up to my nose. It smells sweet, almost a little like treacle tart.

„What is it?“ I ask.

„Caramel latté,“ the blonde says, arraying himself on the chair across from me.

His gaze makes me nervous. I glance away.

„So. What makes you think I'd have been back in England to talk to you?“

I look at the foam covering my latté. „I saw you. You and me.“

„How?“

„I've used a time turner.“

Malfoy's brows rise, both at the same time, betraying genuine surprise. „Where did you go?“

I bite my lip. „To a fair. I was there with Teddy. Or I thought so. But, apparently, it was you.“

Malfoy stares at me and if he's really faking it right now, then he should become an actor.

„What did we do?“

I look away. Avoid his gaze. „We've... talked, I guess. I didn't stick around for long.“

„Maybe you should have.“

I glare at him. „I was too busy keeping down my dinner.“

Malfoy rolls his eyes and sips on his coffee.

„You honestly don't remember it, either?“ I ask quietly.

The blond meets my gaze with open grey eyes. „No, I don't. I've never left France during all those years.“

„So you're saying I'm lying?“

„I don't. I believe that you believe what you saw. All I'm saying is _I don't remember it_.“

My fingers are clutching the cup. „How can I believe you?“

Malfoy shrugs. „I don't have any Veritaserum with me, so I guess you'll have to go about it the old fashioned way.“

„Which would be?“

Pale eyes lock with mine.

„You just do.“

I hold his gaze for a moment, then let my eyes wander through the room. Two girls are sharing a piece of cake two tables away from us, heads huddled together. Smiling.

When I look back at Malfoy, I hope I seem confident and unwavering.

„Help me explain how this is possible, and I will.“

Malfoy sighs. „Are you sure you didn't dream? Or hallucinate?“ He's studying me. „You look rather exhausted.“

„Thank you so much.“

„It was merely an observation.“

I roll my eyes and drink from my latté. Sweetness hits my tongue, exploding on my tastebuds. My eyes widen.

Malfoy grins at me. „I knew you'd like it.“

I stare until the smile drops from his face.

„Well, Potter. I don't know how I am supposed to explain your little vision. Especially if you won't even tell me what exactly it is you saw.“

„It doesn't matter,“ I mutter. „It didn't explain anything.“

The Slytherin keeps watching me.

„I'll think about it, if it's that important to you. But don't you think Teddy should be first priority on my list?“

„Of course,“ I say. I tug at the sleeves of my jumper. „You wouldn't hurt him, would you?“

„What kind of person do you take me for?“

As I don't answer, Malfoy swallows.

„No, Potter. I wouldn't.“

„Good. Because otherwise, you'll be very sorry.“

The ghost of a smile dances around Malfoy's lips. „I'm well aware.“

„Good.“

I feel awkward, out of my depth. Weird. But at the same time, the mingling scents of coffee and sugar calm me.

It's been a while since I've last felt calm.

„Why were you time-travelling in the first place?“ Malfoy asks, taking a sip from his cup. „I mean, for what reason did you revisit that time.“  
I look at the surface of the table. Some stains of spilled coffee marr the wood.

„There isn't really one. I do that sometimes, going back in time and... watching Teddy, I guess. I tell myself I'm looking for anything that could help us find out what's wrong and I _am_ , but it's pointless.“

„That really does sound stupid,“ Malfoy says.

I don't respond to that, instead looking out of the window. It's snowing again, thick flakes of powdery white.

„I should go.“

Malfoy's voice has my head snapping around,

„Oh. Okay.“

A blond brow arches. Pale eyes are studying my face.

„Or was there anything else we needed to discuss?“

Something heavy settles on my chest. Inexplicable. I have no idea why I would feel that way right now.

„No, that's all.“

„Alright, then I'd get started on some research.“ The blond hesitates. „Actually... I think I'll work here. My flat is rather depressing.“

I cast him a look from under my lashes.

„So you're kicking me out?“

The Slytherin pulls his briefcase onto the table, not even looking at me while he's opening it.

„I doubt I'm able to. In case you missed it, I do not own this coffee shop.“

I stay seated as Malfoy litters the table with parchments and papers. My fingers are clasping the cup.

Malfoy doesn't comment about me staying.

I have nothing to do, feeling fidgety and useless, so I drain my cup and say: „I'll get another one.“

I want to ask Malfoy if he wants one as well, but then I can't bring myself to. As soon as I'm ordering another latté, I feel bad and add a black coffee.

The barista, a young man with curls and a nose ring, peers at me as he hands me my latté. „Here you go.“

I give him a faint smile, waiting for Malfoy's coffee.

„Are you with him?“ the barista asks, nodding over at Malfoy.

The coffee in the cup I'm holding is sloshing around.

„What?“

The barista is still holding the black coffee. „I just meant, are you guys going out?“

My eyes widen to the size of saucers. „You mean, like...?“

A very faint blush is creeping over the man's cheeks. „I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… Enjoy your coffee.“

My head is spinning as I take the coffee back to our table. Malfoy hums as I put one cup in front of him. My hands are shaking a little, so that I spill some of it.

„Sorry,“ I say, cringing.

Malfoy casts me a a brief look. „Clumsy, much?“

Something inside me is shrivelling. I try summoning the anger Malfoy usually evokes inside of me, but I can't. I just feel bad. Ugly.

The Slytherin is looking at me frantically searching for a napkin.

„Merlin, Potter. It's just some coffee.“

Under the table, he draws his wand and flicks it. The coffee vanishes.

I sit back down. „You know you could get sacked for this.“

Malfoy smirks. „Only if you tell on me.“

I wrap my hands around my cup again and stare into its depth, until all of the foam is gone.

* * *

I'm surprised when Potter decides to stay with me at the shop, instead of hurrying off to one of his many friends and fans. I'm even more surprised when I find that his presence doesn't bother me.

Almost on the contrary. 

In the beginning, he kept fidgeting, shifting his weight and looking around. Flexing his fingers around his cup.

„I can't concentrate when you keep _moving_ ,“ I hissed at him at one point.

Potter froze. „Sorry.“

After that, he remained still. At first, I think he had to force himself to, but eventually, I can sense him relax.

I'm flipping through a book on Metamorphmagi, stumbling over one chapter that I have to read more closely. It deals with the origin of them and how it works differently from common magic, which usually requires the usage of a wand.

I'm so absorbed in the book that I only belatedly notice that Potter is fast asleep.

Peering up from the pages, my gaze finds a head of black, shaggy hair. Potter has buried his face in his arms and is sleeping on the table. I look at him for way too long and wonder why it is that Potter is so... sad. Exhausted and restless.

After everything that happened, I assume it would be naive to think Potter didn't have some kind of issues, but with the war won and Potter everybody's favourite, I expected someone a little happier than this.

I let him sleep until way in the afternoon. Only when my eyes are burning and I have a hard time focussing on the letters, I quietly store away my papers and get up, skirting the table until I'm standing next to Potter.

„Potter?“ My voice is hesitant. The Gryffindor doesn't stir. Hesitantly, I put a hand on his shoulder.„Potter, wake up.“

This time, he does. Green eyes are blinking in disorientation. Finding my face.

„What...?“

„You fell asleep,“ I provide. „Around three hours ago.“

„Oh.“ Clearly embarrassed, Potter runs a hand through his hair. Then, suddenly, his eyes widen „What time is it?“

„Almost three.“

„Fuck.“ The Gryffindor shoots up and wriggles into his coat. „I have to babysit Rose today,“ he explains.

I don't know who Rose is, but I feel like that's beside the point. „Alright. Then I'll see you tomorrow at Teddy's?“

Potter nods. His eyes are sweeping over my face, nervously, before he drops his gaze again, eyes shadowed by his lashes.

A faint ache behind my breastbone irritates me as I watch Potter dash out of the shop, coat still unbuttoned.

„You look atrocious.“

Andromeda's voice is wafting out of the kitchen as I walk through the hallway.

„Thank you, Andi.“

I enter the kitchen. For a second, Potter is all I see. Deep, purple shadows are rimming his eyes. A small cut adorns his lip.

„She's right, Potter. You do look like hell.“

The Gryffindor glares at me, but it lacks conviction. Something akin to worry is rushing through me. Potter doesn't look good at all.

Professional interest, of course. As a Healer, you can't overlook certain signs.

„Look who's here, Teddy,“ Andromeda says and finally, I turn my attention to my patient.

„Morning, Teddy,“ I say.

My little patient is wearing pajamas and seems a little drowsy, leaning against his grandma's legs and choosing not to talk to me.

„Thank you for coming in so early,“ Andromeda says.

„No problem,“ I say. That is a lie. I was quite annoyed when she summoned me so early in the morning. It always complicates things and makes me wary. „Was there a particular reason?“ I ask politely.

„Teddy isn't feeling well.“

I crouch down and look at the boy. It doesn't take a professional to see that Teddy is feeling worse than two days ago. He looks tired in a way no child his age should and his hair is limp and brown.

„How are you feeling?“ I ask him.

The kid just stares at me with those big eyes of his.

„Good,“ he says and this is another reason why I hate working with children.

They almost never tell you anything useful.

„Maybe you want to sit down?“ Andromeda asks, petting Teddy's head.

I respect my aunt, but I don't think I want her mothering my patient while I'm here.

„I'd like to talk to Teddy alone, please,“ I say.

Potter and Andromeda share a glance.

„Teddy doesn't usually like strangers,“ Andromeda says.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and hold out a hand for Teddy.

It's safe to say I'm the most surprised out of the three of us when the kid actually takes it. Warm, soft and slightly wet fingers are gripping mine.

Potter quirks a smile. „My godson seems to have a terrible judgement.“

I meet green eyes. „I know where he gets it from.“

It was meant to be a harmless joke, but Potter's eyes slide away and his expression makes it clear that my thoughtless comment hits home for him.

Part of me wants to let go of the child and talk to Potter instead, but I didn't became youngest member of the French ranks for nothing.

I allow Teddy to lead me to his room and sit down on the hideous little mattress I know Potter likes to curl up on.

For a while, I just watch Teddy as he's playing with a stuffed animal, a dog, I think. He's doing so listlessly, without the usual energy of a five-year-old.

It's strange to think of this little boy as my cousin, even if once-removed. He doesn't look like a Black and certainly not anything like a Malfoy. I don't know what Andromeda's daughter looked like, but I do remember Remus Lupin. I think Teddy might come a little after his dad...

I frown and draw my wand.

Teddy is holding my hand as we're walking down the stairs – him being the one who reached for it in the first place. That alone should have been a giveaway. Kids don't usually like me much.

Potter is curled up on Andromeda's sofa, the witch reading a book next to him. They would look peaceful, if there wasn't an underlying tension, a worry, pervading the air.

My hand twitches in Teddy's.

I have to be careful.

It's not the first time that I have to find the middle ground between protecting myself and acting in my patient's best interest, but right now, I believe this might become the hardest test yet.

If I'm right, that is. But I like to believe that I usually am. Only that for once, I'd love to be wrong.

„Draco.“ Andromeda blinks at us and Teddy finally lets go of my hand, waddling over to her.

I smile faintly and sit down on the sofa next to the other two, keeping my professional distance.

Potter is looking at me with those blood-shut eyes of his. He manages to look even worse than I feel.

„I don't think we should be too worried about Teddy's condition,“ I say, wondering if it might be smarter not to say this in front of the boy. But he appears unbothered, snuggled against Andromeda's side.

„That's good,“ she says.

I keep my head up and forbid myself to give into the urge to jiggle my leg, trying to find an outlet for the exhausted energy cursing through my body. It's a paradox, I'm aware. But that's how it feels.

„I wanted to ask you, Mrs. Tonks,“ I say. I don't think I'll ever get used to the fact that she doesn't see herself as a Black. She looks so much like one. „About Teddy's dad. Remus Lupin. Or, more specifically, about...“

I trail off, cursing myself. My eloquence is flying out of the window when I'd really need it.

„I'm sure you ran several tests on Teddy regarding lycanthropy, am I correct?“

Potter and Andromeda exchage a quick glance.

„We did. When things finally started to settle after the war, we took him to St. Mungo's and let them do a check-up.“ My aunt looks at me with sharp eyes. „Teddy is not a werewolf, Draco.“

I bow my head. „I'm not trying to imply anything. It's just important to look at this from all different angles.“

Potter shifts on the sofa. „Andi, I... think I did notice though that Teddy always tends to get worse around, you know. That time of the month.“

I almost laugh. _That time of the month_.

„That is probably accidental.“

It's normal, this defensive reaction to anything regarding werewolves. No mother wants their child to suffer from something as terrible as enduring horrible pains and losing their mind once a month.

„It is not common knowledge, since lycanthropy is still a taboo amongst most wizards, but there are actually several variations of lycanthropy. Or degrees, one might say. In fact, you _did_ specifically ask for a healer well-versed regarding lycantropes, only because of Teddy's father.“

The Gryffindor is looking at me with interest now.

„I know about that. For example, Bill was scratched by Greyback when he wasn't turned, so Bill didn't become a werewolf. But he does have some wolfish tendencies.“

It takes me a moment to realize he's talking about one of the Weasleys. The shame of knowing that it was largely my fault this man has been maimed by Greyback distracts me for a moment, but then I pull myself together.

„Exactly. There are werewolves and then there are people only experiencing lupine tendencies.“

„You think Teddy is having tendencies?“ Potter doesn't sound repulsed or judgy. Merely curious.

„It is a possibility.“

Andromeda shifts and frowns, but doesn't talk back. „Would that explain anything further than the worsening of his condition during full moon?“ she asks.

I hesitate. „Not necessarily, no. While the time span during which werewolves experience pre-transitional symptoms varies, I've never heard of one who suffered from them constantly. But it might be a factor.“

Teddy fixes his eyes on me.

„I'm a werewolf?“ he asks.

„No, honey,“ Andromeda says before I can answer.

The boy blinks at her, then looks at me.

„You're not,“ I agree and if anyone notices the lack of conviction in my voice, no one points it out.

I discreetly glance at the clock. „May I use your bathroom?“ I ask.

„Sure. It's right down the hall to your left.“

I measure my steps, so not to seem rushed and lock the door to the tiny bathroom carefully behind me.

It's rather dark in here. I cast a Lumos before pulling a crystal flask out of my pocket, uncorking it and swallowing it down in one gulp.

I grimace. Even after years of drinking the potion, I still haven't gotten used to the taste.

Such a shame that sugar spoils it.

I rinse my mouth, not quite able to banish the tard, sour taste, then open the door and almost knock Potter over.

„Watch it,“ I hiss, then instantly feel bad, since he's the one struggling to stay upright.

I take his arm to steady him.

„Sorry,“ he says, clearly not meaning it.

„Why are you lurking in front of the bathroom again?“

I let go of him.

„I thought I'd escort you out. Teddy fell asleep.“

I hesitate for a moment, then nod and follow him outside into the cold. Potter is shivering instantly.

„You are aware warming charms exist, yes?“

The Gryffindor glances at me. „I'm pants at them. Plus they are less effective when you're freezing.“

I roll my eyes and flick my wand. The Gryffindor sighs and my cheeks feel unnaturally warm.

„I wanted to ask you...“

„Yes?“

Potter is looking at me with an expression I'm more used to from Blaise during Transfiguration. Or myself in the dungeons, bending over a potion, my hair clinging to my sweaty forhead.

„About Greyback.“

I control the shiver going through me.

„What about him?“

Potter kicks at the snow. He really does act like an overgrown child sometimes.

„When you said that there are different degrees of werewolfry, I was just thinking... Greyback always was so – extreme. Like he never fully turned back into a human. I mean, he always looked so wolfish. And he was cruel. Always.“

I look at my feet and resist the urge to ask him if he thinks werewolves are all inherently cruel.

„Well, Greyback is an unusal case. Because, yes, it does seem like he... has fully embraced the beast inside of him.“

Potter slows his steps and frowns at me. His eyes are narrowed. „Being a werewolf doesn't make someone a beast, Malfoy. It's the human that does.“

I blink in surprise. „I didn't mean -“

But Potter isn't finished yet. „I thought lycanthropy is one of your special fields. Shouldn't you know by now that being a werewolf doesn't take away your personality?“ He snorts. „Or are you still believing all that pureblood rubbish about _half-breeds_?“

I'm stunned, even though I know I shouldn't be so shocked. This is Potter, afterall. The last person to judge someone for something they have no control over.

He also must have had quite a close relationship with Lupin, considering the man made him the godfather of his son.

But it's so rare that someone defends werewolves with such determination. People usually either speak in blatant hatred or with carefully put in place political correctness.

„You misunderstood, Potter. I know that lycanthropy doesn't take away ones humanity. But during the time of transition, werewolves _do_ lose their moral code. They turn into an animal, a very aggressive one at that. And while most wizards and witches hate that, I don't think Greyback does. I actually believe he loves it.“

Potter silences, looking at me with his head tilted.

„It's an adjustment,“ he finally says. „Thinking of you... thinking like that.“

I try not to be hurt. It's fair. I know it is.

„Understandable,“ is all I say, clearly throwing him even more.

We've reached the apparition point, but none of us moves to go. When Potter keeps staring at me like an imbecile, I raise a brow.

„Care to tell me why you look like shit, Potter?“

The Gryffindor drops his gaze. „Not particularly.“

Before I can answer, he's looking into my eyes again, defiant now. „Why do you?“

„Excuse me? I never look like shit.“

„Yeah, you do. Right now. Are you sick?“

I keep my expression completely neutral. „A cold, maybe.“

Wizards rarely catch colds or the flue or any of the common muggle deseases. They usually only do if they're weakend by something else first.

„Then you should rest, I guess.“

„So should you.“

Potter rolls his eyes and runs a hand through his hair. „Will you be back tomorrow?“

I shake my head. „I'll visit again in three days.“

„Busy with research?“

I don't know what I did to make Potter look so inquiring. He _knows_ I'm an expert in lycanthropy. Knowing things about werewolves isn't suspicious.

„Quite,“ I say curtly. „If you excuse me?“

Not waiting for him to answer, I turn on the spot, vanishing into darkness.

* * *

I'm tired when I get back to Grimmauld Place.

Actually, tired might be the wrong word. I'm _exhausted_. Worn out, even.

And as usual, I have no one to blame but myself.

After kipping on a hard table yesterday, embarrassing myself in front of Malfoy, I rushed over to babysit Rose and then I should have gone home. Have some dinner, maybe watch telly and then _sleep_.

But no. Instead of going home, I went into one of those sleazy muggle clubs I know so much better than I should.

Every time I go, I know it's a mistake. That I'll regret it. But every time, I do it anyway.

I rub my eyes and slouch down on the cold, empty sofa in my living room. Kreacher isn't here. He rarely is since I told him he could work at Hogwarts with the other elves, or not work at all or do whatever he damn well pleases.

Now he only pops by occasionally to have a chat with his beloved former mistress and roam the house for a few hours.

I rub my face. Something that feels like dirt is covering my skin.

I'm so stupid. Why do I keep on doing things I know I don't want to? Things I know I shouldn't, things that are bad for me?

Because I'm weak. That's the sad, ugly truth. Everyone thinks I'm so strong, but really, I'm not.

I lightly touch the little cut in my lip, made by a stranger's teeth. A stranger whose name I have either forgotten or never even known in the first place.

I rub my face. I need to distract myself. Think of something else than my nightly degradation.

My thoughts wander to Malfoy.

I'm not sure that's much better, but a little at least, so I allow them to, pondering the question why something about him felt off today. He didn't do anything to deserve my suspicion.

Well, except for lying to me about the past, that is. About cornering me at a bloody muggle fair and...

I press the heels of my hands into my eyes.

 _If_ he was lying.

Despite not having seen Malfoy for years, I still remember him at school. And while he often tried, I honestly don't think Malfoy is that great of a liar. His temper usually got the best of him.

It's possible, of course, that he's changed. I mean, he definitely has.

Maybe he knows how to lie now.

I hate gyms. Wizards don't have them, at least to my knowledge, and I understand perfectly well why. They're disgusting – a gathering of sweaty, grunting people, either showing off or silently praying no one notices them struggling. The air smells of sweat, metal and disinfectants.

I wouldn't be here if London wasn't still covered in snow. Rain doesn't bother me and it would have to be scorching before the sun kept my from running, but snow... I don't fancy twisting my ankle on a muggle street and then having to fix it while in pain, hoping not to get the spells wrong or for a muggle to run into me.

So the gym it is.

I don't think I will ever not feel stupid on a treadmill, but it gets the job done. I'm sweating, my legs are burning and I feel like fainting – and also great.

After ninety minutes, I get off the machine on wobbly legs, drying my face with the towel I brought, yearning for a shower.

I never use the changing rooms in gyms. It feels weird to me, stripping in front of so many strangers. It's one thing to room with a couple adolescent boys, perfectly able to shower in privacy and draw the curtains around your bed closed if in need. Another thing entirely is it to prance around naked in front of a douzen or more blokes polluting the air with an overdose testosterone.

„Impressive endurance.“

I turn. A bloke with, I have to say, impressive biceps and a cheeky smile is looking at me.

„Training for a marathon?“

„Maybe someday,“ I say.

He has nice eyes. Green. His jaw is square, his hair a chocolaty brown. Normally, I go for guys a little more slender, but he's hot, no question.

„I'm Brandon. And you?“

I hesitate. „Draco.“

„That's a pretty name. I've never heard it before.“

„Everyone says that.“  
I smile at him, deciding it can't hurt to flirt a little.

„Damn,“ Brandon says, grinning.

„Trying to impress me, weren't you?“

„Definitely.“ The bloke bites his lip. I look him over, trying to assess if we'd match. He's one of those guys that are hard to judge.

„Are you free tonight?“ I ask.

„Free for what?“ The interest is clear on his face. I like that he doesn't sound too challenging. He's not trying to assert dominance.

„Why not start with a drink?“

Only now I remember that I no longer live on my own. But I doubt Pansy would mind too much if I brought home a bloke.

Yesterday, I finally managed to get her to have dinner with me. We sat on the table together, drinking expensive champagne like we always used to, sharing takeaway and for the first time since I've walked through her door, I felt like what we used to have might not be lost completely.

„Sounds good.“

Brandon smiles.

This is promising to be a good night.

Since I'll be busy this evening, I throw myself into research the rest of the day, trying to ignore my headache and the urge to run around the table like a brainless idiot.

Pansy drops by for an hour or two, mostly watching me, keeping me company while painting her face.

„I might bring someone home tonight,“ I say as I finally admit that I can't keep on working.

She stills for a brief moment. „Alright.“

„If you have a problem with that, I won't,“ I add.

She isn't looking at me.

„No, do whatever you please. Just don't forget the silencing charms.“

I can feel she isn't cool with it, not really, but I'm running late already, so I let it slide and make a mental note to go to Brandon's place if possible.

The warmth of the coffee shop envelops me as soon as I open the door and I close my eyes in bliss for a moment, despite feeling high-strung and just generally pissed at anyone and everyone.

Especially Potter, who ordered me here despite _knowing_ I didn't intend to see Teddy or any of them until in two days.

I stride through the shop, trying to focus on the great shag I had last night and not feel like I was hit by three stunners at once and somehow turned into an inferi.

Brandon proved to be very willing to go along with my wishes, as I hoped he would.

„Not too rough,“ he told me as I pushed him on the bed and flipped him, not able to hide how I was planning to play that night. „It's been a while for me.“

I didn't let any sign of disappointment show and suppressed the animalistic urge to fuck him into the mattress, instead starting slow with my fingers and my mouth until he finally, finally begged me to _put it in_. I think I went a little wild during the end, taking him harder than he asked for, so that I felt like trash the moment I pulled out.

„I'm sorry,“ I said to him, lying shoulder to shoulder. He smiled.

„All good. You were great.“

I think he meant it, but still...

I know it's a risk to indulge in the hightened sex drive that comes with the moon. It can be dangerous for my partner.

I've never hurt anyone – if I had, I would resort to my left hand only – but I do know that, sometimes, I was pushing limits. I tried so hard to control myself yesterday and I _did_ , but I've still been too selfish.

„Malfoy.“

I startle, spotting the Gryffindor's head of shaggy locks and heading over.

„You better have a good reason for this, Potter,“ I say grumpily.  
I can't help myself. Annoyance is cursing through my veins, exhaustion and restlessness, traces of shame topping off the mix.

„And why do you look like hell again?“ I add before he can answer.

The brunet looks away. „Why do you care?“

„Professional interest.“

He sighs. „I just don't sleep very well, is all.“

I eye him, my annoyance fading. „Since when?“

Potter snorts. „Since forever.“

He rubs his face and tugs the sleeves of his jumper over his hand.

„No, but... it's gotten worse since the war.“

„Nightmares?“

„Yes. And I just... some nights, I can't fall asleep. At all. I'll just be staring at the ceiling, all night and my heart is pounding so fucking fast and I...“ He trails off. His weary eyes find my face. „I don't know why I just told you that. Please keep it to yourself.“

I raise one brow.

„As you wish.“ We're silent for a moment. When I speak, I do so slowly. „I could give you a potion for this.“

Green eyes fixate on me. „To make me sleep?“

I nod. „Yes. But you'll have to be careful with it. Don't use it too often. It's addicting and ultimately, it will only increase your problems with falling asleep.“

„I won't use it too often.“

The hope, the desperation in the Gryffindor's eyes, make a lump form in my throat.

„I'll owl it to you.“

„Thanks.“ It sounds genuine. So genuine, I almost can't deal with it.

„No worries.“

I study him. „So, why am I here?“

Potter bites his lip, then meets my gaze squarely.

„Andromeda lied to you. Or, at least she didn't tell you everything.“

I lean forward. „Continue.“

Potter lowers his voice a fraction. „Teddy isn't a werewolf, that's true, but the Healers said that he might turn into one, someday. He'll almost certainly show certain tendencies as he grows older.“

„Lupine tendencies?“

„Yeah.“

I lean back again and nod.

Potter peers at me. „That didn't help?“

I blink and suppress the urge to scratch my wrist like a crazy person.

„No, thank you for telling me. Everything helps. But as I said before... lycanthropy doesn't usually cause any of the symptoms Teddy is experiencing. Not at all times, at least.“

Potter nods, looking almost defeated. It's strange to see him like that.

„Yeah, I know. I just... I really want to help him, Malfoy.“

My eyes don't leave his face. Something soft, easily breakable wells up in my chest.

„I know you do. Don't worry, we will.“

Tired, wary green eyes are meeting mine. „But what if we don't? There have been so many Healers trying to help him already. They never could. Why would you be different?“

I raise one brow and lean in. „Do you doubt my abilities?“

Potter hesitates. The ghost of a smile is playing around his lips.

„I'm one of the best, Potter. If there is a way to help your godson, I will find it.“

The Gryffindor looks at me for a long moment. When he smiles, the rest of the shop seems to fall away.


	3. Chapter 3

My plan was to more or less sleep through the next two days, but Potter's smile seems to haunt me, so I'm now standing at the gates of the Hogwarts Grounds, waiting to be let in.

It's even colder up here than in London, and I feel faint. Apparating isn't the greatest idea when feeling ill and I'm ready to curl up under a heap of blankets and close my eyes until the full moon has passed.

„Malfoy. Haven't seen yer in forever.“

I smile up at the huge man standing in front of me.

„Hagrid.“

The half-giant bends down, his grin almost completely hidden by his wild beard. I follow him through the gates onto the grounds of the place that used to be my second home. A place I helped destory.

I don't like visiting Hogwarts much. There's nowhere in the world that I feel guiltier than here.

But it's the only way to see Hagrid during the school year, so I don't really have a choice.

„What's buggin' yer?“ Hagrid asks as I step over the doorstep and am immediately assaulted by Fang.

I grimace as the big, ugly dog is salivating all over my robes.

„Who says anything is bugging me?“ I ask, sliding into the bench and resting my elbows on Hagrid's solid table.

„Yer never show up when yer feeling good.“

I sigh, because he's right. I owe Hagrid my life and feel nothing but deep gratitude and respect toward him, but I don't think we've ever been friends.

„I wanted to ask you some questions,“ I say. „About werewolves.“

Hagrid drops into a chair across from me, bushy brows knitting together. „Aren't yer the expert now?“ He rubs his beard.

„I am, but... I just thought maybe you still have some information I don't.“

„I doubt it, but go ahead, lad.“

I fold my hands and wonder where to begin.

„What do you know about children born by werewolf parents?“

Hagrid's expression transforms into surprised, then slightly suspicious.

„Never usually happens. Most werewolves don't want no kids. Afraid to pass on the desease, you hear me.“

„Yes, I'm aware. But sometimes, it does happen. I know that those children rarely grow into becoming fully fledged werewolves, but they almost always show lupine tendencies. What I'm wondering, is... is it possible that those tendencies can be abnormal?“

„What d'yer mean?“

I sigh and rub my face. I'm so tired.

„Just... anything, really. Usually, those tendencies don't affect the health of the individual. But could they, in theory?“

Hagrid twirls his beard in his fingers, then reaches down to pet Fang's big head. „I've never known a werewolf kid, me. But before Harry beat You-Know-Who, the werewolves roaming the forest... they had kids, some. I think. None ever came to me for help.“

I tilt my head, curious. „You think they would have, if they needed it?“

Hagrid gives me an indignant look out of his small eyes. „'Course they would've! All of the creatures in the forest can come to me as long as they're not running around hurting others.“ His brows knit together and he adds, sheepishly: „Unnecessarily, yer know. Some things just happen.“

He shrugs, glossing over the fact that most of the beasts living in the forest don't give a flying fuck about their neighbours' wellfare.

„So you've never heard of a child born to a werewolf suffering from any illnesses because of it?“

Hagirs shakes his head, tangled hair flying.

„Nah. Why are yer asking? Yer planning on kids?“

I bristle. „Merlin, no.“

Disappointed if not surprised, I rest my head in my hands for a moment. I must have drifted off, because next I know, Fang is drooling on my lap and a huge mug of steaming liquid has been set down in front of me.

„Drink up, kiddo. Yer looking a bit peaky.“

I don't say he's wrong, just lift the mug. It's one of Hagrid's special concoctions, a tea I showed him how to spike with a splash of Pepper-Up Potion. Way more gentle than the potion on its own, but very energizing.

„Shouldn't yer be home in bed, Malfoy? It's almost full moon.“

I take another swig, relishing the warmth buzzing through my veins.

„I have an urgent case,“ I explain vaguely.

„About a werewolf?“

„Not really.“

„So about a child of a werewolf.“

Even Hagrid isn't dull enough not to catch that, so I don't try to lie to him.

„Yer have to be careful. Wizards don't like yer kind.“

„Really? I'd have never guessed.“ I rub my temple.

Hagrid, as always not catching my sarcasm, nods earnestly. „Yer in danger if people find out about yer. Many think werewolves are beasts.“

„I know,“ I say quietly. „Some are,“ I then add.

Hagrid's eyes grow soft and a huge paw lands on my shoulder.

„Greyback's a monster,“ the giant says. „But yer not like'im. I've known a couple of yer kind, and most of them were right nice people.“

I just nod and lift my cup again, shooing Fang off my lap.

„Are there any illnesses you've witnessed amongst werewolves? Illnesses wizards don't have?“

I know that it's something I certainly should know better than Hagrid, but even though my studies have been thourough, there is only so much to read about werewolves that has been written by wizards. I only found one work by a werewolf, and I'm sure she wasn't omniscient. Of course she might have missed something.

While I'm quite sure Hagrid hasn't so much as touched a book in years, he possesses a kind of knowledge few people have. He watches. He doesn't project his own preconcieved notions and judgements onto the creatures he's caring for. He tells the truth as objectively as anyone could.

Obviously thinking about my question, Hagrid strokes over his beard.

„Not really. Once, the whole pack got pox, I think. That's all though.“

I highly doubt Teddy Tonks has pox, so I just sigh and drain my mug.

„I need to ask you for a favour,“ I say reluctantly.

The giant watches me with his dark eyes.

„I'm not living alone right now, so I was hoping... maybe I could come here during my transition. I've took my potions, you don't need to worry. I could go into the forest, too, if that would make you more comfortable.“

Hagrid's pats my shoulder hard enough that I worry he might have dislocated it. „Don't yer be silly. 'Course yer can come here.“

Relief is rushing through me.

„Thank you for having me, Hagrid. I should get going.“

Hagrid nods and escorts me to the door. „Take good care of yerself, Malfoy.“

„You too.“

With that, the cold welcomes me back and I leave the only place in the whole world where I can be what I am.

* * *

„You need to drink something, Teddy.“

I stroke over the boy's heated forehead, trying not to let my worry show. I know how perceptive he is. He can almost always tell when I'm concerned.

He shakes his head and turns away from the plastic cup I hold in front of his face, snuggling into his pillow. No five-year-old should be so happy about going to bed.

With a sigh, I put the cup away and bend down to kiss his head.

„Sleep well,“ I say.

Getting up, I flick my wand to turn off the lights, finding my way through the door with ease.

„A smidge,“ Teddy crows and I have to smile.

„Of course.“

Leaving the door ajar, I head down into the kitchen.

„Thank you, Harry.“ Andromeda gives me a brief smile, then returns to her paperwork. I stand in the middle of the kitchen on socked feet, feeling misplaced and so eager to stay.

„Do you need help with anything else?“

The witch glances at me, smiles and shakes her head.

„No, dear. Off you go.“

„I wouldn't mind, honestly.“

„You're too sweet, Harry. But I'm sure you have better things to do with your night than keeping an old woman company.“

Andromeda isn't old, not really. And I don't have anything better to do.

I nod anyway.

„I'll see you tomorrow.“

„Get home safe.“

The disappointment I feel at not being called _dear_ again drives me out of the house. There are many things I don't like about myself and this strange yearning for... _endearments_ makes it under the top five. It's weird and creepy and pathetic.

I stumble to the apparition point and almost splinch myself on the way to Grimmauld Place.

Part of me wants to leave as soon as I set foot in there. But I know that if I do leave, I'll find myself back at the sleazy club. On my knees in some shady alley or chafing my forearms raw on some stranger's carpet.

So instead of going out again, I dash toward my bed and drain the rest of the potion Malfoy gave me, knowing I'll fall into sweet, dreamless sleep for many hours.

„When you said if you could come over today, I didn't expect you to mean _right now_.“

Malfoy is wearing pajamas, striped pajamas, bare feet and tousled hair. My mouth is dry and I can only stare for a moment.

„Um... sorry?“

The Slytherin sighs. „Come in, you git.“

I follow him into his flat.

„It's nice,“ I say just to be polite, even though I have no idea whatsoever what a nice house looks like. But it's all quite modern and chic. It suits Malfoy.

„It's not my flat. I'm living here with Pansy for the time being.“

„The time being?“ I ask dumbly.

Malfoy raises one blond brow, heading over to something I recognize as a muggle coffee maker.

„Until I return to France.“

„Oh. Right.“

Malfoy flicks his wand. „Would you like some coffee?“

I nod.

As soon as the coffee maker is set into motion, Malfoy turns to me, hip leaned against the counter, arms crossed easily in front of his chest.

„So, Potter. What brings you over here – at eight in the morning?“

When I take a closer look, I notice just how tired Malfoy seems. Almost as if he hadn't slept at all.

„I'm sorry,“ I say again. „I just... I need more of your potion. Please.“

Malfoy's lips press together. Hastily, I add: „I can pay you for it. I mean, I get that you don't usually just give it up for free.“

A smirk crooks Malfoy's lips.

„Oh, I usually do. If someone's peaked my interest.“

It takes me a moment, then my cheeks are heating.

Malfoy grins, then gets two cups out of the top shelf. „I could get you more Dreamless Sleep, but I'm a little concerned about your fast consumption,“ he says, serious again. „You shouldn't already need a new batch.“

I glare at him. „My insomnia is pretty bad.“

Malfoy looks me up and down. „I believe it is.“

Feeling trapped, I snap: „What about yours though?“

„I don't have insomnia.“ His voice is icy.

„You look beyond tired.“

Malfoy's eyes narrow dangerously. „Perhaps I've spent the night with more pleasant activities than sleeping.“

I quickly look away. A door opens and I find myself staring at Parkinson.

She's dressed already, looking gorgeous and more mature than I remember her.

„Pansy. I'm sorry we woke you,“ Malfoy says.

The girl casts him a cool glance. „I'll be off,“ she says clippedly and then storms out of the door.

„I scared her off,“ I say.

Malfoy shakes his head, a new wave of exhaustion seeming to crash over him.

„No. She's cross with me.“

I tilt my head, looking up at him.

„Why?“

He meets my gaze.

„I have no idea.“

We drink our coffee on the sofa and my heart just won't stop pounding. Malfoy's presence next to me is strangely distracting. Strangely... all-consuming.

When a cool hand is placed on my knee, I almost jump. „Stop fidgeting, Potter. It drives me insane.“

I nod, heart threatening to jump out of my chest. Malfoy catches my gaze and quickly pulls his hand away as if he'd have burned his skin.

Something inside of me keens at the loss of contact.

„I've thought about the fair again,“ I blurt.

It takes Malfoy a moment to catch up.

„Where you've allegedly seen us?“

I nod.

„I think maybe we've been under an Imperius.“

The Slytherin lifts a brow. „Both of us? Why?“

I shrug and turn the cup in my hands.

„I don't know. But it would explain why we don't remember.“

Malfoy looks out of the window. The sun is only just rising. I look at him. His regal profile.

I never noticed before, but Malfoy is... gorgeous. Handsome in a way that makes my blood boil. I stare at the curve of his chin and the subtle jut of his adam's apple.

„I don't see why anyone would do such a thing.“

He sets his empty cup down and I follow the movement with my eyes. When he turns to me, I think he sees something in my face that throws him.

„I don't think I should give you more Dreamless, Potter,“ he says.

I shrug, pretending not to care. Right now, in this moment, I think I really don't.

I want to touch Malfoy. It's probably just my fucked-up brain and even more fucked-up body, but the urge to reach out and lick the spot between his jaw and his ear is so intense that it's painful.

I lean in, just a fraction, desperate to smell Malfoy.

The Slytherin turns and gets up.

„I'm really tired, Potter. You should go.“

It's like he'd have splashed a bucket of ice cold water into my face. Wobbly and dazed, I get up.

„Yeah, sure. I'll go. Sorry.“

„You don't have to be sorry,“ he says, not quite looking at me.

But I think I do. I think I just embarrassed myself really, really badly.

I more or less run to the door. By the time I make it out of the building and into the cold, tears are staining my cheeks.

* * *

I'm half sleep-walking during my next appointment with Teddy. Maybe that's why I come up with nothing new, nothing at all. But I doubt it.

I keep running useless tests. They all tell me the same thing – Teddy is perfectly healthy, except for this ominous thing damaging his magical core. This tension that shouldn't be there.

But no matter how I turn it, I just don't understand where it's coming from.

With the full moon over, Teddy seems a little bit better, but not so much so that I could rightfully assume his lycanthropy – whatever degree it is – would be the cause for his pain.

Things aren't made easier by having Potter around.

Potter, who keeps casting me glances, only to then quickly look away. He's wearing muggle jeans that are too big for him and a jumper hiding how thin he's gotten. I want to touch the soft, worn fabric and hate myself for even thinking about it.

Maybe I should give him more Dreamless. He looks like he'd really need it. If he's confused enough to believe he's attracted to me – and apparently ready to act on it – the situation must be dire.

But I've seen enough patients abuse the potion to know that it might be what finishes him. So I just avoid him, trying not to look into his sad eyes. Trying to ignore the burning inside me whenever he looks my way.

* * *

I haven't slept for thirty-six hours and I think I'm losing my mind. I'm tossing and turning, the damp covers clinging to my legs. My head throbs faintly and my eyes are filled with sand that just won't go away. Whenever I rub them, I just drive it in deeper.

I'd drink myself into oblivion – but I know the dreams will be horrid if I do. And I'm not sure I can take them right now.

So I swallow my pride and do the one thing I know I really shouldn't.

„I need more potion,“ I say.

I've only walked about half a mile from the apparition point over to Malfoy's house, but I'm frozen to my bones. Frozen and out of my mind.

The Slytherin is standing in the doorframe, staring at me. It's late and I know I look a mess.

He on the other hand looks flawless as always. „Potter, I told you...“

He steps back. Lets me inside.

I rush past him, shuddering from cold and madness and desperation. And want.

„Please, Malfoy. I can't sleep. I _can't_... it just won't _stop –_ I'm always...“

My breathing is laboured. In one fluent motion Malfoy steps over to me and takes me by my shoulders.

„Relax, Potter. It'll be fine.“

I stare into his grey eyes. They never leave mine.

„It's alright. Just breathe.“

I do. I breathe and I look at him and the panic is leaving my body. All that remains is devastating longing and utter madness.

Without thinking, I step closer, push up on my toes, wrap my arms around the Slytherin's neck. Malfoy's breath hitches. It's all I need.

I kiss him. My lips must be cold, but his are warm. I press my mouth against his, urging him to open up for me. After way too long, almost long enough to reduce me to a hyperventilating mess on the floor, they do.

Malfoy opens his mouth and his tongue flicks out. The second it touches my lips, I part them, letting him in, begging him to kiss me harder. To take what he wants.

His hands slip from my shoulder and around my waist. As he pulls me closer, our bodies flush, I moan.

Our mouths are hot as they're moving against each other, tongues dancing. We only pull back when I think I'm about to pass out from lack of oxygen.

Malfoy stares at me in something almost like wonder. And confusion.

„Potter...“

I kiss him again, then say: „No one has to know. We can forget it as soon as it's over if you want to. Just... _please_.“

I think it's the begging that does it, because Malfoy groans and claims my mouth again, with intent this time. I surrender to him, letting him support my weight.

My hands are tugging on his fly, too clumsy to fumble with the zipper. Because it's easier, I start with mine, kicking off my trousers. I would have fallen if Malfoy weren't there supporting me.

„Wait – bedroom,“ he pants against my lips and I let him drag me to his room, my heart short on jumping out of my chest.

„Are you sure you want to?“ Malfoy asks and there is an aching pull in my heart.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak and help him push down his trouser. He pushes me to the bed and I shiver as I flop down on the mattress.

I'm still kissing him, somehow unable to stop. He's making delicious, rumbling noises against my lips, breath catching now and then. I wrap my legs around his waist and feel his erection press against me. The evidence of his desire for me goes straight to my head – and to my cock.

My hands shaky, I push down my pants and wriggle out of them. Malfoy groans into my neck, then catches the hem of my shirt and pulls it off. I stare up at him, heart hammering so hard I'm afraid I might pass out.

Wonderous grey eyes are looking down at me, taking in every inch. Long fingers feel cool on my hot skin as they brush over my ribs, down my sides, stroking over my thighs at last. They wander up again and one hand settles over my heart.

„Everything okay?“ he asks, his voice completely unlike the posh drawl I usually know.

I nod, my heart slamming right into the palm of his hand.

„Fuck me,“ I breathe.

I can feel his cock stiffen even further and his eyes take on a predatory look that immediately makes me want to come.

„As you wish, darling.“

A tight, burning heat ignites behind my navel and shoots into my thighs and lower back. I whimper and Malfoy grins, reaching down to tug off his own pants.

As he draws back to get rid off the annoying clothing, I turn aroud and bury my face in my arms, goosebumps all over my skin.

When strong, elegant hands are smoothing down my back, following the lines to the small dimples on my lower back, I can barely hold back a moan.

„You've done this before, I assume?“

I nod into my arms, not looking at him.

Hands are pulling on my hips, urging me up on all fours. I'm shaking so much already. Malfoy is stroking my flanks, his hands finding the slender curve of my arse. He's pulling my cheeks apart and looks. Under his gaze on the most private part of my body, I almost pull away and curl into a ball.

Or come.

„So pretty,“ he whispers and I can't hold back a broken moan.

He's stroking down my thighs and I can hear him mutter under his breath. When his fingers return to my arse, they're slick.

„I want to finger you. Is that alright?“

„Yes, fuck,“ I choke out.

One finger is petting my entrance, coaxing the tight ring of muscle to relax, before suddenly pushing in.

Time loses its meaning as Malfoy works his fingers inside me, stretching and probing and caressing that sweet spot that makes my whole body go tight, my eyes roll back.

I want to tell him that he doesn't need to, not this long... not so gentle. No one has ever spend so much time preparing me and I know by now that I can take a lot. I like it when it hurts.

But I can't form words, can't do anything but pant and gasp and hold back moans.

When the fingers finally retreat, I'm already a complete mess, dripping precum all over the sheets and shuddering.

Malfoy leans over me and presses a kiss to my nape.

„Are you ready to get fucked, darling?“

My belly tightens and I can only nod feverishly. I think Malfoy chuckles at my eagerness and I know I'll be ashamed afterwards, but right now, need is burning too brightly for any other emotion.

Malfoy lines himself up, one hand on the small of my back, soothing.

„Spread your legs,“ he says and I do, knowing I'm bright red.

When I feel him enter me, he puts his other hand on my hip, loosely. Not pulling yet.

I tremble and tense at the intrusion. Malfoy feels huge, but then again, every cock does when it's breaching me for the first time.

„Relax, baby. You're doing great.“

My mouth falls open.

Pants and breaths and groans measure the time until Malfoy bottoms out with a heavy sigh. I have my eyes closed as Malfoy waits. When I tentatively start rocking back, he meets me. He's starting slow, but when I demand: „Harder,“ he begins to thrust, taking me apart with ease.

I'm gasping and panting, dropping to my elbows as Malfoy fucks me, holding my hips, pulling them back.

„Come for me,“ he says, voice wrecked and one of his arms is reaching under me.

It takes two strokes of his hand until I cry out and come all over the sheets. Malfoy groans loudly and starts driving into me, quickly following me over the edge.

When he pulls out, I flop down, still catching my breath, floating. Malfoy lies down next to me and I think I might be able to feel his hammering heart from afar.

I look at him and I'm afraid there's longing, yearning in my eyes. When he meets them, I quickly look down.

„Come here.“

I lift my head. Malfoy takes my arms and pulls me closer. I shiver with delight as he wraps his arms around me, my head on his chest. My smile is content. It's all I can do not to start purring as Malfoy pets my hair.

For a while, we're both quiet. I listen to Malfoy's heartbeat.

Despite the slenderness of his body, I've always known Malfoy would be strong. It's hinted in the broadness of his shoulders, the subtle strength of his lean legs.

But I didn't know his strength would make me feel so safe.

I'm about to drift off, when Malfoy pulls back.

„Wow, Potter.“ I look at him as he sits up, staring at me. „You're full of surprises.“

I don't know what to say, so I only stare. I wish he'd come back and hold me again.

His grey eyes are so gentle for a moment that I think he might.

„Think you can sleep now?“ he asks, pulling on his pants.

I swallow and scramble for my clothes myself, suddenly cold.

„Yeah. Thanks.“

It feels weird, saying this.

„Don't thank me. I had fun, too.“

My heart is pounding too loudly again.

„I unfortunately don't have a floo,“ he says and I feel dumb.

I feel like I always do after having just been shagged. Only worse.

„It's fine,“ I mumble, avoiding his gaze.

„Hey, Potter.“

I turn around.

„Let's agree not to tell anyone about this, alright?“

Pitch is running over my skin.

„Sure.“

Andromeda opens the door for me. She's wearing an apron, her hair in a messy bun. For the first time, she doesn't remind me of Bellatrix at all.

„I'm glad to see you, Draco. Come in.“

I follow her into the kitchen smelling like stew. A kitchen with no Potter.

Teddy is here though, heading over to me. When his hair turns platinum blond, I feel myself smiling.

„He likes you,“ Andromeda says.

„Apparently.“

Teddy blinks at me. „Do we need to do more tests?“ he asks in his high voice.

„Just a few.“

Teddy accepts his fate and follows me obediently into his room.

I half expected Potter to be there, but he's not. I know it's for the better, but my heart clenches anyway.

Last night was a mistake, I know that. It was a terrible mistake and I'd do it again anytime.

Maybe I wouldn't feel the aching need to see Potter today if I didn't have the distinct feeling that I somehow pissed him off. Perhaps even hurt him.

I don't know what it was that I did though. I'm rather sure he was enjoying himself, even though he was uncharacteristically quiet, I felt.

I thought he'd thank me if I made a clear cut, gave him the cue to leave, so he wouldn't have to hang around. But then I think about the way he curled against my chest... maybe he wanted to stay longer.

Or maybe I'm indulging in wishful thinking and should really focus on my job right now.

I sit down on the floor, cross-legged, and play with Teddy, meaning building up a tower out of blocks so he can then destroy it. All the while, I run some gentle scans and think about the core examination I did.

As gently as I can, I nudge his core with my magic. It tightens.

I frown and Teddy squirms a little. „Ouch.“

„I'm sorry,“ I say absent-mindedly, my thoughts racing.

Knowing I should only do this once since it might be uncomfortable – painful, even – I sharpen my mind and then assert a well-placed little jab into a particular swirl in Teddy's magical core.

The clap-back I and the boy experience shock us both.

Teddy starts crying.

„I'm sorry!“ I say again and cast a quick soothing charm.

It's too late though. Andromeda already comes racing up the chairs. Another pair of steps is on her heels as she throws the door open.

„Is everything okay?“

Teddy runs into her arms and I sit on the floor like an idiot, my brain still working as if on speed.

It only stops when Potter becomes visible right behind Andromeda. We stare at each other and a deep pink blooms on his cheeks. He looks away.

I get up and face my angry aunt.

„I'm sorry, Mrs. Tonks.“

The third apology in a row. I might have to change my name.

„What happened?“ she asks, cradling Teddy in her arms.

„Just a test.“

„Anything new?“

I hesitate for a split second.

„Perhaps, but I'm not sure yet.“

„I think it's enough for today,“ she says and I nod, because that suits me just fine.

Busy with her grandson, she hardly notices Potter leaving. I dash after him and catch his wrist at the foot of the stairs.

„Hold up,“ I say.

He pulls his arm away. I'm surprised when he can't meet my gaze.

„What? I'm here for Teddy. Not for you.“

I bristle. „So am I.“

„Right.“

„So it's going to be awkward now?“ I ask stiffly, hiding the pain I feel.

Potter looks up and his defiant face, his blazing eyes, can't hide anything.

He's ashamed.

It hits me like a stupor right into my chest. I swallow thickly.

„Look, if fucking a Malfoy is beyond you, we can pretend it has never happened. But I need to talk to you about your godson.“

Potter's mouth falls open and the genuine surprise in his face makes me wonder if, maybe, I got it wrong.

„Okay,“ he just says. „But what about Andi?“

„I'd like to talk to you alone first.“


	4. Chapter 4

He comes with me to the coffee shop and doesn't say anything until we're sitting at our table in the corner, hands clenched around hot cups. Sitting so close to him without being allowed to touch hurts.

„So?“ Potter asks.

I take a breath and collect myself. Focus on the case.

„Werewolves possess a slightly different kind of magic than wizards do. Just as the magic Metamorphmagi use is just a little different.“

„Okay.“

I can tell that Potter has put aside his personal feelings toward me as well. He's listening attentively, a slight frown on his face.

„I think someone or some _thing_ is trying to attack and maybe even extinguish Teddy's werewolf magic. I can't prove it yet, but maybe with some more specific tests, I might be able to. But it would certainly explain why his morphing isn't affected by his condition.“

Potter looks at me, eyes flickering. „But... Teddy isn't a werewolf yet. Right?“

„I don't think so, but he definitely has werewolf magic.“

Potter looks into his cup, thoughtful.

„Are you saying a person is trying to... turn him into a human? Like, erase the werewolf?“

I hesitate. „That's a possibilty. It makes the most sense.“

„Is that even possible?“

I take a sip, then carefully set the cup back down. „There are rumours that a spell like that exists. But I doubt it has ever really worked. If it had, wizardkind would certainly know all about it.“

„So it's not possible.“

„As far as I know... no, it's not. Yet someone could certainly think it might be. Or they know something I don't.“

Potter nods slowly.

„Are there other possibilities?“ he asks.

I take a moment to think about it. „The fact that I've never found any traces of foreign magic would be strange if it was actually a person who put him under a spell. But... I honestly don't know what else it could be. There are deseases that weaken the magical core, but a desease that is... trying to reverse lycanthropy? I've never heard of such a thing.“

We're both quiet for a moment.

„Why did you want to tell me first?“ Potter breaks the silence.

I turn my cup in my hands.

„If my first theory is correct, someone has cast a spell on Teddy.“

Potter's eyes widen. „And you think it was Andi? That's _insane_ , Malfoy.“

He looks genuinely offended. I don't back down, just arch my brow at him.

„Is it? Only a person close to him would have been able to. And she comes from a pureblood family.“

Potter snorts. „So do you.“

„Yes. I know perfectly well what most purebloods think of werewolves.“

„Andromeda was cast out by her family because she married a muggle born.“

I shrug. „That doesn't mean some of the old beliefs don't still stick.“ I tilt my head, eyeing Potter. „What did she think when her daughter fell in love with a werewolf?“

Potter opens his mouth, then closes it.

„I mean... I think she wasn't thrilled, at first. But she loved Tonks anyway. And I don't think she ever really attacked Remus.“

„But her overall attitude to werewolves is the one most people have, isn't it?“

Potter tugs at his sleeves.

„She'd never hurt Teddy. Never.“

My voice grows softer. „I'm sure she'd think she is protecting him. I would understand.“

„How would making him ill protect him?“

I study his face. The defiant, slightly desperate eyes. The tension in his shoulders.

„I doubt I have to lecture you on what it means to be a werewolf in the wizarding community, Potter.“

„But Kingsley...“

On first name basis with the Minister. Of course, Potter.

„Shacklebolt helped werewolves and centaurs a lot, but we're still far from true equality. Not even speaking of the mindset most people still have.“

The Gryffindor doesn't talk back. I'm sure he knows I'm right.

We're both listening to the noises of the coffee shop, the clattering of cutlery, the roaring of the coffee maker. I try not to think about last night, about Potter panting and arching his back. About his warm body pressed to mine. Urgent, hot kisses in the living room.

„I just can't believe she'd do something like that,“ Potter says quietly, bringing me back to reality. At least partly.

„Nothing is proven yet. But I will have to look into it.“

„Yeah. I know.“

Silent again, I stir my coffee until I finally find the courage to look at Potter and ask: „Why are you so cross with me?“

He splutters. Blushes. Glares at me. „I'm not... I -“

„You are cross with me, Harry.“

His mouth opens at the use of his given name. I want to say it again. Feel it rolling off my tongue.

„Did I hurt you?“ I venture on. „Or is it because of who I am?“

He keeps his mouth shut.

„Or something else?“

The Gryffindor looks away, but he can't hide his vulnerability. Finally giving in to my yearning, I reach for his hand. His lashes flutter and he doesn't pull his hand away.

„You didn't hurt me,“ he mumbles.

„Good. Then what is it?“

My heart is beating way too fast.

Harry squirms a little. His fingers are twitching in mine. When he finally looks at me, I'm almost shocked.

„Nothing. Really.“

I tilt my head.

„I'm not always like this, you know,“ he blurts, face pink again.

„Like what?“

He looks to the side.

„Like throwing myself at some bloke who basically turned me down once already.“

I tighten my hold on his hand because I can't help myself.

„I liked you throwing yourself at me. And I only turned you down that one time because, well. I didn't think you'd actually want to and I also thought it would complicate things. Which it did.“

Harry is looking at me and once again, the vulnerability in his face catches me off-guard. I don't think he wants me to see it, but he can't help himself.

„Sorry to make things complicated.“

With a superhuman effort, I pull my hand away and smile.

„It's in our hands whether it's complicated, isn't it?“

„Yeah.“

I feel like he's still sad, but not as mad as before.

„Let's just be adults about this.“ It feels like every word coming out of my mouth is wrong.

„Yeah. I think... I should go.“ He gets up and I want to ask him to sit back down.

I don't, of course.

„Tell me when you find out anything new,“ he says, then turns and leaves me alone at the table.

I rock Rose on my lap while Hermione is making tea, her hair a bushy mane today, since she hasn't left the house once.

„Do you want me to take her?“ she asks as she sets down two cups on the table and drops into the cozy armchair next to the sofa.

„It's fine,“ I say. „I think she's about to fall asleep.“

„Thank God,“ Hermione breathes and tension is visibly leaving her body.

I cradle Rose in my arms and lean back as well.

„Ron will be home late today?“ I ask.

„As usual.“

She doesn't sound annoyed. Merely tired.

„You look thin, Harry. Are you eating?“

I blink at her sudden comment.

„Yeah, yeah.“

„Are you sure?“ She frowns at me, sipping on her tea.

„I'm sure.“

I wait until Rose is fully asleep, then I take a breath and tell Hermione everything about what Draco said to me today. About Teddy and about Andromeda.

By the time I'm finished, Hermione's mouth is hanging open.

„You don't believe she actually did that, do you?“

I hesitate. „No, I don't. But it's the first thing that really makes sense. And I just don't know who else it might be.“

Hermione gnaws on her lip and tugs up one leg, hugging it to her chest.

„Is Malfoy really sure that it's a person who is causing Teddy's illness?“

The name still gets stuck on her tongue. It was hard for her to accept Malfoy as a Healer, as someone constantly in Teddy's – and my – proximity, but she's getting there.

„Not _sure_ sure, but... as I said, nothing else makes sense.“

„I know Andromeda isn't... very supportive of werewolves, but I really doubt she'd hurt her own grandson that way. She loves Teddy.“

„Draco says she'd see it as protecting him.“

Hermione looks surprised at the use of Draco's given name, but doesn't say anything.

„Yes, but... she is so upset because of Teddy's illness. I can't believe anyone could be that good of an actor.“

I sigh.

„Me neither. But who else could it be?“

I try to focus as Hermione is clearly doing, but it's hard. I keep thinking of Draco.

„Who else gets close to Teddy besides her, you and Ron and I?“

„The Weasleys, sometimes. Not that often. That's it. Well, and now Draco, of course.“

„And before him, there have always been other healers.“

I pause. „Right. But we only started frequenting them because of the symptoms. Also, they kept changing. The healers, I mean.“

Hermione rubs her nose.

„That is true. Could it be someone who we don't know Teddy is in contact with?“

I snort. „Who would that be? Teddy is five, Hermione. He doesn't go anywhere alone. Usually, we don't even leave him alone in a room. And if we do, not longer than for ten minutes or so.“

She nods pensively. „It's strange.“

„I know.“

„Maybe we should ask ourselves who would even have a motive,“ she says, swirling the tea in her cup.

I think about it. „I can't come up with anyone but Andromeda.“

„Because she loves him.“

„Yeah.“

„Who else loves Teddy?“

„I mean, I do. But I hope you don't think I'm a suspect.“

Hermione shakes her head, deep in her thinking-space. When she speaks again, she does so very carefully.

„What about the rest of his family?“

„They're dead, Hermione.“

„Not all of them.“

I frown. „Are you talking about Draco? He's got nothing to do with it. He was in _France_ , afterall. And why would he tell me about that spell if he's the one who cast it?“

Hermione puts her cup down and looks into my eyes. „I'm not talking about Draco. I'm talking about his mother. Narcissa Malfoy.“

Stunned silence fills the room.

„Narcissa hasn't even _met_ Teddy,“ I finally say.

„But does she know about him?“

I hesitate. „I'm not sure. I think the Death Eaters did know about Tonks and Remus though. So, yes. She might.“

Careful so not to disturb the baby in my arms, I put my own cup down as well.

„But, Hermione. Why on earth would she do something like that? She's already spent eighteen months in Azkaban. I really don't think she wants to go back.“

„The timeline fits, Harry. By the time she was released, Teddy's symptoms first occured.“

I think about it. Count.

„That's a coincidence,“ I say.

Hermione leans forward, elbows propped on her knees.

„Do you really think so? Because I believe it would make sense. I'm sure she'd see it as a disgrace to the family. Maybe she'd even do it with the intention to help, I don't know.“

„Come on. When would she have had the opportunity?“

Hermione shrugs. „She might have used Poly Juice. Or another form of disguise.“

I wrinkle my nose. „I really don't think that's it, Hermione. It feels off. Completely off.“ Offended, Hermione crosses her arms. „Narcissa loves Draco. She _lied_ to Voldemort's face for him. I don't think she'd harm her family like this.“

„But as you said, she might see it as help.“

I shift Rose in my arms.

„I really don't think it's her.“

„So you believe it's Andromeda.“

„I don't believe it's either of them, but if it _was_ , then I'd say Andromeda. Narcissa is just too... far away. You get me? I doubt she's that invested in Teddy.“

Hermione sighs an leans back.

„Maybe. But I still think you should ask Malfoy about her.“

* * *

Pansy stares at me accusingly as the doorbell rings. I give her an apologetic smile and walk to the door.

„Hi.“

My heartbeat is kicking, seeing Harry standing there, a bit of snow in his hair, hands hidden in the sleeves of his jacket.

„Hello. Come in,“ I say.

„I need to ask something about Teddy,“ he says the moment he walks in and I think he wants to make clear that this visit is strictly professional.

I squelch any ill-placed disappointment and lead him into the living room. He looks at Pansy, who stares back in a manner that can't be described at anything else but hostile.

„Um... alone,“ Harry says, looking up at me.

I wait a beat, but Pansy doesn't move.

„Alright, then...“

I trail off. When I start walking toward the bedroom, I can almost feel the hesitancy in Harry's steps.

I close the door behind him. Harry is standing there, swallowing. Looking at me.

The need to touch him, undress him, is almost irresistible.

I clear my throat.

„Take off your jacket, please. And then tell me what it is.“

He wriggles out of his winter jacket, exposing a worn, baggy jumper I'm dying to touch. Carefully, he sits on the edge of the bed. I take a seat on my uncomfortable chair.

„So, please don't throw a fit, just... do you think your mother could have anything to do with Teddy?“

It takes me a moment to process Harry's words.

„My mother? Why would you think that?“

Harry starts fidgeting at my obvious offense. „I don't believe it either, not really, but – she is Andi's sister. Maybe...“

„No,“ I say.

Harry falls silent.

„My mother hardly even leaves her house as far as I know. And she hasn't seen her sister in many years. I'm absolutely positive she has nothing to do with this.“

I can't quite meet Harry's inquiring gaze.

„Are you close with her?“

„No.“

„Then how can you be sure?“

My head whips around and I stare him down.

„Because I am, alright? I'm sure, Potter. My mother doesn't know how to do this and if she did, she wouldn't. Now leave it, okay?“

My hands are trembling, so I clasp them in my lap.

„Did you... are you guys still speaking?“ Harry's voice is soft. I just shake my head.

„Why not?“

I get up and look out of the window, my back turned to Harry.

„We tried working things out after the war. Turns out we can't. She threw me out.“

I control my breaths, fighting the surge of ugly feelings inside me, so I almost miss Harry approaching me. As a hand lightly rests on the middle of my back, I stop breathing. Slowly, I turn around.

Emerald eyes are gazing up in mine. „I'm really sorry, Draco.“

When I kiss him, he tilts his head up for me, his arms wrapping around me as mine are wrapping around him. I lift him up, too dazed to think about him noticing my unnatural strength. His legs wrap around my waist and we tumble to the bed together, mouths never parting.

My hands stroke all over his body, feeling his warmth. Feeling him tremble.

I move against him, my hands tender and my mouth hard. He's sighing softly, his hands running over my back, one brushing back the strands of hair falling into my face.

We have to part to get out of our clothing and as soon as we're naked, Harry is turning over again. I want to ask him to look at me, to let me see his face, but I accept the way he wants it.

I kiss my way down his spine, between his legs. Up his trembling thighs.

„Oh – _Jesus_ , Draco.“

I smile, then return to licking over his entrance until he's bucking back, then finally slipping my tongue inside.

I'm quiet this time, even when I replace my mouth with my fingers. I only speak once: „Are you ready, darling?“

He's not on all fours this time. Instead, I press him into the mattress, right arm slung around his shoulders, holding on to his left biceps. I kiss his neck, breathe against his cheek while moving inside him in a slow, unhurried pace. He's biting back moans I wish he'd let out.

When I can feel him clenching around me, coming untouched, I lose it, finishing on one powerful thrust.

After, I can't bring myself to kick him out like last time. We're curled around each other and I breathe in his scent. I don't know who of us is falling asleep first, but I know he's staying with me the whole night.

I wake up to green eyes and messed up black hair.

„Hey,“ I say, smiling. He smiles back, bright enough to light up the moon.

„Draco.“

I grin. „Harry.“

He hesitates, then leans in and presses a chaste kiss to my lips. I chuckle.

„Asking for morning sex?“

The way he bites his lips and grins at me makes my heart swell. When he dips under the blanket and swallows me down, I almost black out from pleasure.

I come embarrassingly fast, one hand fisted in his hair.

When he crawls up at me, I idly think I've never seen anything as beautiful as Harry Potter post blowing me.

„Fuck,“ I say and kiss him.

He blinks down at me.

I sit up, still looking at him. Reaching out to carress his cheek.

„Do you maybe want to do that again some time?“

Huge eyes are wary and hopeful. He takes my hand from his cheeks and intertwines our fingers.

„Yes, but only... if we go out too. I don't think I can be casual with you.“

He says it easily, almost. His bluntness knocks the air out of my lungs. What he says... it's too much to process.

Something in my face makes him uneasy.

„It's fine if you don't feel the same way,“ he says, pulling his hand free.

„Harry, I...“

He gives me a smile that doesn't reach his eyes at all.

„Honestly. I promise I won't... make it complicated. Just – I don't want to have, like, yeah. Casual sex. I can't.“

My heart breaks. I open my mouth.

I want to say yes. I don't really believe him – he can't be serious, not really – but... I want to.

If I could, I'd throw all caution in the wind and ask him to go on a date with me right now.

But I can't do that. I can't, because he's Harry Potter and I'm Draco Malfoy. And I have a secret that I know he'd figure out eventually if we really did this. He's too smart not to.

„We can't,“ I say quietly.

Harry nods and looks down. „Okay.“ He slips out of my bed, reaching for his clothes.

„Harry, it's not...“

Clad in trousers and his jumper, searching for his socks, he pretends not to have heard me.

 _I can't be with you_ , I want to say. _I'm a werewolf_.

But I don't. I feel out of my mind, but I've not gone completely insane yet.

Even if I wasn't what I am, there is still enough to ensure Harry can never be mine. It's a cliché that I hate, but in this case, it's true – he's too good for me.

I'm afraid being with me would kill him eventually.

Still, I can't watch him leave like this. I get up and grab my pants, shrugging them on. Following him out of my room.

„Harry.“

I catch his hands. He turns to me and I know he's trying to mask his pain, but his face betrays him.

„I'm sorry,“ I say, never having meant it quite like this.

„It's okay. I understand.“

No, he doesn't. But I don't know how I could make him.

„I'm not right for you,“ I say.

Harry's mouth turns downward. „Sure, whatever.“

With that, he really does leave. I stare after him, empty. Numb. Hurting.

A movement behind me makes me turn around. Pansy is standing there, in her pajamas.

„I think you have to leave as well, Draco. I'm really sorry.“

Hermione Granger's face when I'm turning up on her doorstep is priceless. Her hair is a mess and her baggy shirt is stained with things I'd rather not take a closer look at.

„Malfoy. That's, well... hello.“

Finally, she manages to close her mouth. My throat is clogged with humiliation, pride and white hot burning shame.

The fact that I have no one else to go to than Granger speaks volumes. With Pansy having kicked me out, there is not a single friend of mine left in England.

I could have asked Andromeda, of course. I almost did. But it would feel highly unprofessional and I'm afraid she might feel obligated to say yes because of her dependence on me as a Healer.

Granger certainly won't feel obligated to grant me asylum.

That I can't ask Harry is obvious.

„Good morning, Granger. I'm deeply sorry to bother you, but...“

The words won't come out. Behind her, a tall ginger approaches, a baby safely wrapped up in his long arms.

„What the fu- frigg. Malfoy, what the – what are you doing here?“

My heart is beating way too fast, stumbling in my chest. What was I thinking?

Taking a deep breath, I tell them my precarious situation. That I need a place to stay.

I'm barely finished when Weasley explodes.

„Bloody hell!“

„Ron,“ Granger chides with a look at her little urchin that is staring at me with huge brown eyes.

„You can forget it, Malfoy,“ he says and I know only the presence of his kid prevents him from lunging at me.

„Why don't you find a hotel?“ Granger asks.

„Wizarding ones won't take me.“

Weasley snorts. „Wonder why.“

„And you need an – um.. DI for the muggle ones,“ I continue.

„ID,“ Granger says promptly.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. „Yes, that.“

„Malfoy, I really...“ Granger looks rather pained and I realize what a fool I am.

„He can stay with me.“

My heart stops. Behind Weasley, Harry appears, face pale. I imagine the messiness of his hair is still due to my hands.

He must have come here straight from my flat.

„Mate, you don't have to,“ Weasley says, throwing Harry a concerned look.

I wonder of he told them about me. I doubt it, because if he had, they'd have probably already murdered me.

Harry just shrugs. „There are a douzen or so empty rooms at Grimmauld. It's not a problem.“

My heart is still thudding painfully.

„I can just confund a muggle,“ I offer.

Harry doesn't look at me, but pushes past his friends and toward me.

„I'll show you how to get there. It's hidden.“

Before he can leave with me, Granger grabs his arm. „Come over later, alright?“

Harry nods lightly. When his hand touches my arm, my breathing stops.

„See you in a bit,“ Weasley says to Harry, looking at me in clear threat.

„You don't have to do this,“ Draco says, standing in the middle of my huge, dusty living room.

I turn back to the door.

„This house is huge. We won't even have to see each other.“

„Harry.“

The tendon connecting the two halfs of my heart tears. I don't turn around.

„You can pick one of the spare bedrooms.“

With that, I leave him.

The light is warm and the food delicious, but there is still an aching tension hanging over the dinner table. Andromeda is eyeing Teddy worriedly.

„Sweetie, you need to eat something.“

„I'm not hungry,“ Teddy groans, clearly aggrivated that he has to say it for the third time now.

„You haven't touched the casserole. I need you to eat at least half.“

I swallow as Teddy's hair turns red.

„Andi, if he's not hungry...“

The witch turns a razor sharp gaze on me. I fall quiet.

„I don't even like casserole,“ the boy says sullenly, crossing his skinny arms.

„What would you like to have?“ Andromeda asks, tone measured, fighting for patience.

Teddy considers that a few moments, his mouth hanging open.

„Steak,“ he finally declares.

„Alright, then.“

I feel useless, stupid as I wait with my godson at the table while Andromeda whips up some steak. I smile at Teddy and his hair turns black as he smiles back, then knocks his cup over.

Glad to have something to do, I magically clean up the table.

„There you go.“

Andromeda sets down the steak in front of her grandson, already cut into small pieces. Teddy's eyes lighten up and he takes a fork into hand – only to put it down again before he's even picked up one piece of meat.

„I don't like steak,“ he says.

Andromeda's eyes are unnaturally bright as she looks at Teddy.  
„You will eat, Teddy.“

The boy starts crying.

„I'm not hungry!“

Andromeda stays quiet for a moment, then she turns to me.

„I think it would be better if you leave now, Harry.“

„But...“

„Please.“

I bite my lip, then smile at Teddy.

„I'll see you tomorrow, kiddo.“

Teddy is too caught up in his chagrin to pay me attention, so I just slip quietly out of my chair and head to the door.

No one looks after me.

When I step into Grimmauld Place, it's uncharacteristically warm. And it smells like food.

Carefully, I put my coat away and head to the kitchen.

Draco is sitting at the long table, all alone, a glass of white wine in front of him, an empty plate pushed away. He's brooding over a thick book, pale hair falling over his eyes. I stare at him, mesmerized by his effortless grace.

He must have noticed my eyes on him, because he looks up. Grey eyes find mine and his lips quirk.

„I've left pasta on the stove, if you want.“

My heart is racing, the pace sickening.

I have to remind myself three times that Draco doesn't like me before I can answer.

„I've already eaten.“

That's not really true. Like Teddy, I left my casserole mostly untouched.

„Alright.“

„Teddy won't eat,“ I say.

Draco's brows furrow. „Not at all?“

I shake my head, not sure if I should sit down.

„I'll brew him some nurturing potions,“ he says.

Grey eyes sweep over me. „Why don't you sit down?“ He pauses. „Or would you like me to leave?“

I say nothing. Just sit down, one empty chair between us.

„Why did Parkinson kick you out?“ I ask.

Draco picks up his wine glass and slowly swivels it, the wine almost like molten gemstones.

„She told me that she still isn't quite over the crush she used to have on me. And living with me... especially if I was to bring dates homes, was difficult.“

I can't look at him.

Parkinson did the right thing.

I'm the stupid one.

„I wish things were different,“ he says. „I missed her, all those years. It was my fault we didn't stay in contact, I know that. I never responded to the few letters she wrote me. But... I really miss her.“

Abruptly, I get up.

„Did you tell her you weren't right for her, too?“

Shocked, wide eyes look at me. I turn around before he can answer and flee the kitchen, my heart a wild, wounded animal in my chest.

The night for me began with slinking into one of those grimy, shady muggle clubs I know too well. It got started when a rather handsome, tall guy with sandy hair and a beard approached me, glint in his eyes. _Hello, gorgeous. You look a little lonely over there._

I went with him only thirty minutes later and now I'm standing on an expensive white carpet, large hands squeezing my arse – skinny, but not as scrawny as it should be – pulling me flush against the guy's larger body.

He bites my earlobe and I fist my hands into his shirt.

„Are you okay with playing a little rough?“ he asks, breath hot on my neck.

I nod. It's what I need. I think. It certainly is what I usually end up with.

I'm pushed on the bed, stripped with greedy hands. Teeth are scraping my collarbone. My hips are grabbed. I'm flipped on my belly.

I'm with a muggle, which is why the man swears under his breath, slaps my arse and tells me not to move. _I'll be right back._ While he is getting lube and condoms, I cast a discreet, non-verbal protection spell. Condoms are great, but there are too much incidents with them for me to feel safe without my spells.

The muggle returns and I'm pulled up to me knees, head hanging down. My heart is beating loudly. Strongly.

Slick fingers find my entrance.

„Are you ready?“ the man pants after what feels like a second later.

„Yeah,“ I say, even though I know I'm not quite yet.

I like painful sex, but I've had enough blokes now to know how much prep I need to walk that fine line between pleasure and pain. But it doesn't matter, not really. I just want him to fuck me until I can't think and then get out of his huge bed, a bed smelling like cologne and money and many, many pretty boys.

The bloke aligns himself and pushes inside me. I close my eyes, panting through the pain.

„Fuck, you're tight.“

I know that. Many have told me before, like it's something amazing. I'm not so sure. All I know is that it makes sex more painful, which isn't really necessary, since anal sex easily turns painful without the right amount of preparation.

The bloke manages to hold himself back for the first few thrusts, perhaps reading the tension in my back and thighs correctly, but when I start easing up just a little, he gets going.

It's good and it's awful.

My mind is blank, my mouth hanging open as he takes me, hurts me, relieves me. He keeps missing my prostate, but I don't mind too much.

When he comes, I can feel him go rigid, but no warmth spilling inside me.

I never know if I like that, when they come inside me. It makes me feel dirty, but something about it is undeniably sexy. It turns me on, but I feel like that might be wrong.

„Jesus.“

He pulls out, carefully, but it hurts anyway. I feel empty and cold, sweat clinging to my skin.

Slowly, I turn around. The man flashes me a grin.

„If I didn't have a boyfriend, I'd keep you here for another go in the morning.“

I swallow and don't pretend to smile. I just get up and pull my pants up, wriggling into my shirt.

„How do you get home?“

I blink at the guy. „Um, a cab. I guess.“

„I can give you money for that. I know that my flat is quite far out.“

I shake my head.

„No, thanks.“

„You sure? If you want to, you can stay for another drink. Or a shower. I didn't mean to send you running like that.“

„I'd rather not bump into your boyfriend,“ I say.

A boyfriend he didn't tell me about when he asked me to come to his place.

He gets up and loops an arm around my shoulder.

„Don't worry about it. He's not coming home until the early morning. And we're also not, like... we're not exclusive. At least I don't think so.“

The way he says it makes me reckon his boyfriend would not agree with that statement.

Men are just the worst.

„I think I better go.“

He sighs and smiles.

„Alright, gorgeous. Maybe I'll see you around. I definitely wouldn't mind a repeat performance.“

I smile vaguely, then leave his flat feeling worse than when I entered it.

„Harry, it's fucking three in the morning.“

Ginny blinks at me, bleary-eyed, her short hair sticking up to all sides.

„I know. I'm sorry. I just...“

My ex sighs.

„Come in.“

I follow her into the one room flat she rented two years ago when she finally scraped together enough money to move out.

„Did something happen? Or do you just need a place to crash?“

Ginny and I don't see each other very often anymore, yet she knows me in a way not even Ron and Hermione do. She might not understand as well as they do where all my weird ways of fucked-up-ness are coming from, but she is very good at handling me when I'm down.

„I just need a place.“

I toe off my shoes next to the door, while Ginny slips into her rather big, rumpled bed.

„Take a shower. You reek of sex.“

I nod numbly.

„And then come here.“ Her tone is softer now and I nod again, less numb.

I rush through my shower (Ginny's bathroom isn't really one to fawn about), then slip into one of her baggy shirts and my own pants and pad over to her bed. She holds up the covers for me and I crawl under them.

Her sinewy, strong arm snakes around my waist and her body is curling around mine.

For the first time today, I'm almost relaxed.

„Wanna talk?“

I swallow. „Just another dumb bloke,“ I whisper.

I don't know which one I'm talking about, but I doubt it matters.

Ginny's arm tightens a little.

Sometimes, I miss having this every night. It was the best thing after the war – those short months of Ginny and I being together, clinging to each other at night, keeping the nightmares at bay. If it would have been up to me, we'd probably still be there – curled around one another at night, exchanging short, passionless kisses and cheering each other on during the day.

But Ginny put her foot down when she first fell for a girl – halfway, at least. It didn't last long, but it made her realize how impossible she and I were. So she broke it off.

From time to time though, I'm still allowed in her bed.

„Baby, you need to start taking what you want. Not just take what they give you.“

My throat is tight.

„I don't want to... I like...“ I can't finish the sentence.

„Just because you want to be manhandled and tossed around, maybe, doesn't mean you can't tell them _how_ exactly you like that. You don't have to be mute to be submissive.“

My face heats and Ginny snuggles closer to me, pressing a chaste kiss into my hair.

„Now sleep, you dumbass.“


	5. Chapter 5

The second Harry appears in the doorframe, Teddy wriggles out of Andromeda's arms and dashes toward him, almost falling over his own clumsy feet.

The Gryffindor smiles, crouches down and picks him up. I'm a little surprised when he sits him on his shoulders, Teddy's little hands fisting into his mess of hair.

My heart aches.

„Careful,“ Harry says quietly, smiling.

Teddy loosens his grip just a little.

„Harry, would you mind going upstairs with Teddy for a moment? Draco said he needs to talk to me alone.“

Harry nods and green eyes find mine.

He didn't come home last night. He didn't come home and I couldn't sleep, because I was waiting for his steps on the stairs.

Thinking about where he must have been makes me see red. Picturing him in the arms of some bloke, strange lips all over his body, makes me want to burn down the whole world.

I can't look at him any longer.

„I'll call for you,“ Andromeda says and Harry turns and carries Teddy upstairs.

I take one moment to collect myself, to ban Harry from my thoughts and focus on my work. My patient and the woman in front of me.

„Mrs. Tonks, I need you to make a list of everyone who is regularly in contact with Teddy.“

Andromeda's brows knit together. She tilts her head gracefully. „May I ask why?“

I hesitate for a moment. „I believe it is a possibility that someone might have cast a spell on him.“

A shiver goes through Andromeda. „What kind of spell?“

„One to suppress the lycantrope magic inside of him.“

Andromeda's lips part in confusion. „Is such a thing possible?“

„In theory, it might be.“

The with nods slowly.

„Well, the list isn't a long one. Harry is here a lot, as you know, and myself, of course. Occasionally, we visit Ron and Hermione. Every other month, we have dinner at the Burrow. That's it.“

I try not to let my disappointment show.

I very much doubt any of the many Weasleys has something to do with this. They might be purebloods, but they're so far off any kind of predjudices, I can't believe any of them would have a problem with Teddy showing lupine tendencies. Afterall, Bill Weasley has been scratched by Greyback himself.

But if it's not a Weasley, then that only leaves one other option. It wasn't Harry, obviously, and I haven't forgotten Granger and her ridiculous campaign for house elve rights back in school.

Andromeda seems to read my thoughts.

„You think it was me.“

I meet her gaze squarely. „Was it?“

The witch is calm and her eyes are hard as stone.

„I would never harm my grandson. He is the greatest – the _only_ – joy in my life since my daughter and husband passed. Keeping him safe is my only purpose.“

„I'd understand if you felt like suppressing the werewolf inside him would keep him safe.“

Andromeda brushes her long curls back and folds her hands on the table.

„I won't hide that I do wish Teddy will never show signs of lycantrophy. I know how very difficult life is for anyone who has creature blood running through their veins. If there was an easy way to rid him of this desease, I'd take it.“

She pauses and looks into my eyes. „But there isn't. I've never even heard about a spell to counter lycantrophy and if I had, I'd never have used it if it means my child will always be feeling sick and weak. That trade isn't a fair one.“

I silently look at her for a few long moments.

„Are you sure that Teddy's illness is the work of another person?“ she asks finally.

„I'm not completely certain, but so far, it is what makes the most sense.“

Andromeda frowns, looking at her hands. „I am not in the position to distrust your judgment. All I can tell you is that it wasn't me and I don't believe it was anyone else of the people that know Teddy.“

I nod slowly. She is right. None of them would have done this.

„It might have been someone you don't know. Or at least don't know well,“ I say, unsurely.

Andromeda's eyes are vivid. „That strikes me as unlikely.“

„Me too,“ I say and for a moment, I give in to my exhaustion.

I hate myself the moment I open my mouth. But I claim to be a professional. So this is what I have to do.

„Have you ever had contact with your sister, lately?“

Now I have surprised her.

„Your mother, you mean?“

„Yes.“

„No. I haven't seen her in years. She's not in Azkaban anymore, is she?“

I shake my head, not able to meet her eyes. „No, she's under house arrest at the Manor.“

We're quiet, Andromeda studying me.

„You think Narcissa might have something to do with this?“

„No, I don't. But I have to look at all possibilities.“

Andromeda accepts that with a bow of her head.

I rub my face and try to think outside the box. Whenever I have felt stuck with a case in the past, in ninety percent, it was because I had been looking at it from the wrong perspective. Maybe latched onto an idea too quickly, not considering all different possibilities.

„I've assumed that the motivation behind the spell is love. The attempt to protect Teddy from an unjust world. But, perhaps, it's something else.“

„Go on.“ Andromeda looks at me with interest.

„Maybe it's a punishment.“

Her eyebrows fly up.

„Teddy is five years old. Who would want to punish a little boy?“

„No one. But perhaps someone is trying to punish you? Or his parents?“

„His parents are dead.“

„For some, death isn't enough.“

But I know she's right – it's not very likely that someone is trying to get at the dead Remus Lupin or his wife.

Andromeda is thinking, rubbing her chin. „There are certainly some old family members that resent me to this day,“ she says.

When she looks at me, the realization hits me that this is my aunt. My mother's sister.

„But, Draco. This doesn't feel like punishment to me. Wouldn't a punishment involve more pain? Wouldn't it be faster? It seems strange to choose this to get revenge.“

I sigh. She's right. It doesn't make sense.

„I'm a little bit lost,“ I admit.

She nods, understanding. „That is alright. This case is a difficult one. Just... promise me you won't give up so easily.“

The underlying desperation in her voice finally snaps me out of my frustration. I straighten my spine.

„Of course not. I'll find a way to heal your grandson, even if that means turning every page about lycantrophy of every book ever written.“

Harry isn't home when I get back to Grimmauld Place after an exhausting and even more _frustrating_ session at the coffee shop.

I shrug my coat off, annoyed and confused.

The only thing that makes sense is that someone is trying to block Teddy's magic. Except that it doesn't, because there is _no one_ who has both motivation and opportunity to do so.

I decide to let it go for tonight, think about something else before my brain goes to mush. I could have a glass of wine and some good chocolate, maybe. Alone.

My shoulders slump. Not for the first time, I can't escape the awareness of how utterly alone I am in England. No friends. No family. No one to share a drink with.

It's not quite that bad in Montpellier, but it hasn't escaped my notion that I have yet to recieve a letter from my aquaintances over there. Or send one, for that matter.

I sigh and put my coat back on.

If there is nobody to have a drink with, then I guess I'll just have two on my own.

The muggle pub I've chosen is close by and by the looks of it, more a modern bar than an old-fashioned club.

Over the last years, I've become quite accustomed to muggle drinks and have also finally grasped the concept of muggle cash, even though I still find the paper money to be irritating.

I skirt the tables in my way and sit at the counter, the bartenders almost looking like vampires in the dim light.

„What can I get you?“ a woman with square shoulders and tattoos all over her hands asks me.

„A Gin Tonic, please.“

I let the noises of the bar wash over me, trying not to feel lonely among the groups of people laughing together. Should someone approach me tonight... who knows. Maybe I'll go with them.

„Draco?“

I turn. It's none other than Harry, standing next to me.

My heartbeat speeds up as I'm looking into his green eyes. They really do look like emeralds.

„What are you doing here, Potter?“

The light paints strange streaks all over his face.

„Having a drink with Hermione. She needed to get out of the house.“

I raise a brow. „Weasley doesn't mind?“

The look Harry shoots me is irritated.

„Why would he? I mean, I guess he'd probably like to come along, but someone has to watch Rose. And he sees her way less than Hermione, so...“

I just nod. I guess I simply don't know what it's like to be so close, to know someone for so long, that you trust them explicitly. That your best mate going out for drinks with your wife, alone, isn't weird at all.

Harry seems to read my expression.

„Jesus, Malfoy. I'm gay. And even if I wasn't, I'd never.“

I've offended him without even saying anything.

„I'll be over there.“

Before I can say I'm sorry, try to make it right, Harry is pushing past other guests and retreats to a small table Granger is waiting at for him.

I rub my face, then drain half of my drink in one go. „Another one, please.“

The tattoo lady doesn't comment, just brings me a second drink.

When I'm halfway through with that one, someone slides onto the bar stool next to me.

It's a woman and she's stunning. Her long hair is as light as mine is, almost white, falling down to her hips. Her skin is fair, her eyes big and blue.

She smirks when she notices me looking.

„Buy me a drink?“ she asks.

I usually prefer men, but I'm not immune to a woman's charms. And this one is especially charming. Which is not a surprise, because...

„Malfoy, watch it. She's a Veela.“

Granger has materialized next to me out of thin air. I arch a brow at her, while the Veela hisses.

„I'm aware.“

The alcohol is buzzing in my veins. Granger, a little startled by my unexpected knowledge, needs a split second to recover.

When she has though, she takes my wrist. „I need to steal him for a moment.“

The pretty woman narrows her eyes, but lets her drag me over to the table Harry is sitting at, deliberately not looking at me.

„And why exactly did you feel the need to blast my chances for the night, Granger?“

The Gryffindor glares at me.

„You didn't look like you were sober enough to handle a Veela. And I'm not sure I believe you that you were actually aware she is one.“  
I sit down between her and Harry.

„I did. Even though she seems like she hasn't learned yet to control her allure.“

„Or maybe she chooses not to,“ Granger says.

„That would be illegal.“

„Yes. But some Veelas feel like wizards don't have the right to rule them and tell them how to live. Which I understand, yet the allure is something we truly can't allow. It takes away a person's free will.“

I nod slowly. „And how exactly do you know so much about Veela?“

„I work at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures,“ she says. „What about you?“

I take another sip of my drink.

„Veela blood runs in my family. I didn't get much of it though. I've undergone a couple of tests and the Veela magic is barely tracable. Meaning I'm not immune to the allure, but perhaps a tad more attuned to noticing it.“

Harry blinks at me. „Some of the Malfoys are Veelas?“

I shake my head.

„No, some of the Blacks are. My grandfather, for example – Cygnus Black. He was a Half-Veela. It's not common knowledge, since purebloods frown upon magical creatures, but...“

Harry stares at me.

„Andi's father was a Veela?“

„Half-Veela,“ I correct.

„She never told me.“

I shrug with one shoulder, looking at him and wishing I could grab him, take him home and cover every inch of him in burning kisses.

„As I said, many purbloods are ashamed or even forced to deny any creature blood they might possess.“

I should know.

My lips quirk into a bitter smile as I lift my drink again. Halfway to my mouth, my hand freezes.

„Has Teddy ever been tested for Veela blood?“ I ask Harry.

The Gryffindor's eyes widen. He shakes his head.

„I don't think so.“

A frown knits his brows together. „But he's undergone _a lot_ of tests. I'm sure someone would have noticed.“

I shake my head. „Not necessarily. Not if they didn't know what they were looking for.“

„Okay, but what...“

Harry trails off, confused. I look at Granger, whose eyes are gleaming with the sparkle of someone who is on the verge of discovering something big.

„Have you seen a case like this before?“ I ask.

She slowly shakes her head.

„No, but I know that werewolves and Veela don't get along. It seems to lie in their nature.“

I nod.

„Yes. Veelas that were bitten by a fully transformed werewolf die almost always. And the ones that don't...“ Now I look at Harry with significance. „They usually turn into Squibs. Their magic blocks itself. Veela magic and werewolf magic working against one another.“

Harry's jaw drops as the same realization hits him that just hit me.

I was right. Thinking outside the box was the key.

My first theory was wrong. No one hexed Teddy. The thing attacking his werewolf magic is part of him.

It's Veela magic.

„What about his morphing?“ Harry finally asks.

„Metamorphmagi are wizards like you and I. They're not categorized as creatures because their magic is almost identical to ours. That's why it's unaffected by the creature magic.“

Harry leans back in his chair, moonstruck.

I ride the wave of my glorious revelation for a moment longer. Then I'm thrown on the shore. The floating turns into hard stones, wet sand under my cheek.

„What can we do about it?“ Harry asks.

I look at the surface of the table.

„I don't know.“

It's already late in the evening, almost dinner time. The sunlight is fading and my head aches. When I lift my eyes from the books littered around me to stare into the distance, I feel almost blind. I'm not short-sighted, but I think I might become it if I keep on spending my days reading, never leaving the room.

„I made coffee,“ Harry says.

He's wearing a jumper that's too big for him and sweatpants that threaten to fall of his hips. One light tug and he'd be in his pants.

„Thank you,“ I say earnestly, taking the cup from him.

Harry sits down next to me again.

„Any luck?“

I shake my head. He's helped me all morning, then went over to Teddy's to tell Andromeda the news and babysit the boy a bit.

„Maybe we should involve someone else. I'm not an expert regarding Veelas.“

„I feel like you know quite a lot about them.“

I shrug and lean my back against the sofa behind me, looking at Harry.

Hesitantly, he starts: „I know it's probably stupid, but we've spend so much time thinking about if there's a spell that might heal lycantrophy... I mean, if it does exist, it's what we need, right?“

I shake my head.

„It doesn't work. If it did, I would know. I've tried everything.“

The moment the words leave my mouth, I want to haul them back in. But I can't.

Harry's brows rise. „What do you mean by that?“

I take another sip from my coffee, aiming for casual. My voice doesn't betray me. My shaky fingers might.

„During my training, I've experimented a bit with different potions and spells. Nothing worked.“

Harry eyes me. It's easy to forget, but the Gryffindor is quite smart. Not in the bookish way Granger is, and not regarding strategics like the Weasel, but he listens. He can read people quite well. And right now, he's trying to read me.

„It's impossible to get rid of creature blood,“ I continue, praying he'll stop thinking about my slip-up. „If it was, many people would.“

Harry says nothing to that. Just keeps looking at me.

Instead of werewolves, I know think about how it felt to kiss him. How his body welcomed me in. The way he gasps when he's turned on, how his back arches.

I look away.

„If nothing else works, there is always the option to block his magic. Obviously, I'd prefer not to do that, but... it would make him feel better.“

Harry shifts his weight, fingers flexing.

„I hope it won't be necessary.“

„So do I.“

I wake up confused and disoriented. For a second, I wonder if I just dreamed the screams. But then, there is another cry.

It's coming from down the hall.

Without thinking about it, I grab my wand and throw the covers back, climbing out of bed and rushing to the door. Down the hall, to Harry's room.

„No, please, I -“

He's thrashing in his bed, the covers tangled around his legs. Sweat is covering his forehead, darkening the armpits of his shirt.

„Harry.“ I touch his shoulder. Lightly shake him.

„Harry, it's okay. You're safe.“

He waks up with a jolt, gasping for air, eyes unfocused and panicked. My throat tightens.

I stroke down his arm.

„It's okay,“ I whisper and his eyes find my face.

His bottom lip is trembling. I hesitate, not sure if I should pull away or not, when Harry's hand comes up and grips my wrist.

„Please, don't leave me.“

His voice is so broken that I almost start crying.

„Never,“ I say and intertwine our fingers.

He sighs and turns to his side. With my free hand, I pet his damp hair until he falls asleep again.

The next day, I take a little trip back to Montpellier, where I meet up with one of my older colleagues, who is a specialist regarding anything Veela. After that, I have coffee with one of my friends, Naima, whom I trained with, quizzing each other about werewolves.

When I return to London late at night, I owl Granger, asking her for a professional meet-up. I might have an idea, but I'm not sure if it's possible to execute it. And if the risk might be too high to take. If Teddy would even want it.

It's late when I return to Grimmauld. I expected Harry to be already in bed – certainly not waiting for me in the living room.

I arch my brow at him, striding over to the sofa where he's sitting.

„Shouldn't you be asleep?“

The look Harry regards me with is one I haven't seen before. I can't quite place it.

„Why did you lie to me?“

I frown. „I didn't lie to you. What are you talking about?“

Harry gets up, green eyes determined. It's almost like he looked at me during Sixth Year, when he was so sure I was up to something (which he wasn't wrong about), only... not quite. Just as certain, but less hostile.

„I'm talking about the fact that you're a werewolf.“

My stomach drops through the floor. Ice is clasping my hands and my heart goes into overdrive.

„Why whould you say that?“

Harry steps closer.

„Don't try to deny it, Draco. I know. You've said this thing and I've found the wolfsbane. I know.“

My head is spinning. Before I know what I'm doing, I've drawn my wand. Point it at Harry.

„You're _wrong_ ,“ I say, voice trembling. „You're wrong and you won't tell anyone about your suspicion. Am I clear?“

Harry's eyes narrow.

„Why didn't you tell me? I'm not some pureblood snob. I don't care.“

I raise my wand higher.

„Stay the fuck away, Potter.“

He swallows. „Is that why you told me we can't be together? Because that's crap, Draco.“

My teeth grind together.

„You know nothing, Potter. You have _no idea_ what it means to be a werewolf.“

„I do! Remus was one. I know it's difficult and fucking unfair.“

His eyes grow softer. Pleading, almost. „Look, I get why you don't want people to know. I won't tell anyone, if that's what you want. But don't hide from me.“

My face twists into an ugly sneer.

„Please, Draco. I...“

„Stay _away_ ,“ I snarl.

Harry stares at me, taking another step forward.

„Why do you act like that? Don't push me away.“

My gaze is ice and finally, his excitement cripples. Vanishes.

„You're imagining things, Potter. We're nothing. You're nothing to me, alright?“ The words are like wire, cutting my lips as I force them out. „Stop believing we have something and move on.“

Harry's face falls and I hate myself.

„Okay.“

One word. It's all he says. He turns around and leaves, not even putting on his jacket.

I rake my hands through my hair.

„Fuck,“ I whisper.

My whole body is trembling.

„Fuck!“ I scream into the empty house, where no one hears me.

I sink to my knees and scream into my hands until my throat is sore.

„Are you sick?“ Granger asks after I've greeted her and we've sat down on her cozy sofa.

„No, I'm fine,“ I say.

She raises her brows and puts Rose down on a thick blanket to her feet, pushing some colourful rings into her little paws. The baby purrs, then hiccups.

„You wanted to talk to me about Teddy?“

I nod. „Yes, I... had an idea what we could do. It's not perfect by any means, but I hope it might at least make the situation a little better for him.“

„I'm all ears.“

I take a breath and look into Granger's intelligent dark eyes.

„Well, I've spoken to some experts and I believe I might be able to brew a potion that suppresses his Veela magic. He would need to take it every day and... I'm almost sure it will diminish his magical abilities to a certain extent. But I hope it will also stop the fatigue and episodes of faintness.“

Granger frowns. „Suppressing Veela magic can come with a multitude of side effects. I'm sure you know that.“

I bow my head.

„I do. I might have to adjust my recipe according to how Teddy reacts to the potion. But I'm confident I'll be able to find one that suits him eventually.“  
Granger doesn't look convinced. Which I get – my idea isn't a great one. Not even a _good_ one. But it's the only thing I could come up with.

„Have you ever thought about turning him into a full werewolf?“ she asks.

My eyes widen. „Um... excuse me?“

Granger reaches down to pat Rose's head as the baby starts whining.

„It's impossible to turn a person into a Veela – one has to inherit the blood – but it is very possible to be turned into a werewolf. Don't you think, with the werewolf blood already inside him, it would overpower the Veela and stop the magical conflict in his core?“

I blink and stare at her.

„But... then he'd be a werewolf.“

Rose starts complaining louder and louder, until Granger sighs and picks her up again, settling the baby on her lap.

„Yes, I'm aware. It's not ideal – not what one would wish for a child. But to me, it seems better than essentially muting part of his magic. And it would also be a permanent solution. No potions, no side effects.“

„He'd have to take wolfsbane,“ I remind her.

„Not every day though, right? And wolfsbane potion doesn't come with side effects.“

„Usually not, but... Granger, you can't tell me Teddy would actually _want_ to be a werewolf. Andromeda told me she wouldn't wish it on him.“

The Gryffindor detaches her daughter's groping hand from her hair and says: „No, probably not. But, as for myself, I'd rather be a werewolf than having to live my life with only half of the magical ability I actually posses. Having to take a potion every day. Also, muting a Veela heritage often results in mental health problems. You can't just suppress a big part of someone's identity and think it won't have any consequences.“

I tilt my head. „The transformations are extremely painful.“

Granger grimaces. „I know. I really hope, some day, we will find a potion or a spell to help with that.“

„And wolfsbane isn't cheap,“ I point out.

„Andromeda has the money, don't worry.“

Silence falls over us, only bothered by Rose's happy gurgling.

„I understand your hesitation. But times are changing. I never told you this, but... I'm working on a new law regarding lycantropes. Most of their struggles really are just a result from the ostracism they experience. It's not really the desease itself. I'm actually doubting if it's even right to call it a desease.“

„It is techinically a virus,“ I point out.

„Yes, but are werewolves really sick?“

„As I said, the transformations are hell.“

Granger smiles wryly at me.

„Period cramps are hell, too, let me tell you that.“

Her voice softens. „Teddy wouldn't grow up like we have, Draco.“

My name in her mouth is almost like a caress. To my own shock, tears are prickling in my eyes.

„He will have it harder than the average wizard, but that will be the case no matter what we choose to do. In my opinion, he might be happier as a werewolf than he'd be with muted magic.“

I don't say anything. My thoughts are spinning.

„Just talk to Andromeda and Harry about. Make sure they understand the choices they have.“

I look at her and, for the first time, I realize how kind Hermione is. Bossy, a smart-arse and always needing to be right. But also kind and very compassionate.

„I will. Thank you, Granger.“

Harry doesn't look at me while I'm talking to him and Andromeda, Teddy at home with Granger, who is now struck with babysitting two urchins.

Andromeda's face is pale, but she hasn't yet interrupted me and she also doesn't look like she'd be ready to bolt. Her hands are clasped on the tables, her eyes on me.

„These are the only two options you see? Either muting half of his magic or turning him into a werewolf?“ she summarizes.

I nod. „I... know it's not what you hoped for. If you want me to, I can keep on looking.“

„Do you think you'll find something?“

„No, I don't. It is impossible to reverse lycanthropy or Veelarism. And since it's not possible to turn someone into a Veela, either, the only option left to rid Teddy of the magical conflict is turning him into a full werewolf.“

I shift my weight and fold my hands. „Or we mute part of him.“

Harry still doesn't look at me when he speaks up, instead gazing at the table.

„Is it safe to turn him into a werewolf? He does have Veela blood, afterall. You said Veelas die when they're bitten.“

„There is a small risk, but I'm rather sure the transition would go smoothly. He is not a full Veela, not even quite a Half-Veela. And he already has werewolf blood inside him. I'd help him during the transition.“

Harry nods, still avoiding my eyes. He doesn't look good. Like he hasn't slept.

„Could you please... once again tell me what it would mean. To be a lycantrope, I mean.“

I clear my throat.

„Well, as far as physical symptoms go... most werewolves are physically stronger than humans are, but not to the extent of, say, a vampire. Otherwise, there are obviously the monthly transitions. Those are very painful. If untreated, the werewolf loses their sense of self and morality during. But with wolfsbane, they stay sane.“

I look at me hands, then back at Andromeda. I rush through the symptomes shortly before the transition.

Then I say: „There is still a lot of predjudice against werewolves. His career choices will be limited, if his identity is disclosed.“

Andromeda tilts her head. „Is it possible to hide lycanthropy?“

I nod. „Yes. It is illegal, though.“

„What punishment does one face if discovered?“

„As a minor, none. As an adult... up to five years in Azkaban.“

The witch exhales. Her knuckles are white.

„You gave me... quite a lot to think about.“

„Take as much time as you need, Mrs. Tonks.“

She looks at Harry. „We'll talk about it.“

The Gryffindor nods. Then, he addresses me again – without looking my way.

„Shouldn't we ask Teddy as well?“

I hesitate.

„It's up to you if you want to do that. But I don't think he'd be able to understand the choice he has to make. He's too young.“

Andromeda nods.

„I believe that as well.“

She turns to me, her eyes tired, but still sharp. They're the most distinct difference to Bellatrix. Where Bella's eyes were dark and hooded, Andromeda's are round and a touch lighter.

„Would you give us some time to deliberate?“

I nod, feeling like I've doomed them. „Just owl me when you've made a decision.“

* * *

Draco is pacing the living room when I get back home, tired and worried. Seeing him looking at me the moment I enter send fresh waves of pain through me.

He approaches me, then stops.

„She hasn't made a decision yet,“ I say curtly, not looking at him.

„I didn't expect her to.“

A pause. Then: „Harry, are you alright?“

My eyes dart up, then quickly away again.

„What do you care?“

He crows in closer. So close, I can feel his body heat. It makes me dizzy. It _hurts_. It hurts like hell.

When he reaches for me, I flinch away.

„I'll take a shower,“ I say loudly and flee the room.

Under the hot stream of water, I tell myself again and again that Draco doesn't like me. He might want me in a certain way, but he is no different from all the other blokes.

He's only different to _me_. Which means, I won't let him have me anymore. I'm not that suicidal yet. Masochistic, obviously. But if I let him use me, I honestly think I might not survive it.

So instead of returning to the living room where I so desperately want to go, I throw on my tiniest shirt and the jeans I always wear and head out of the door.

The muggle pub is crowded and I quickly down two shots to numb the ache inside my chest. Then I enter the dancefloor.

I've never been to a straight club, so I have no comparison, but if straights are as desperate and horny as gays are, I'd be surprised. In no time, a bloke is grinding against me and I hardly feel anything over the storm of hurt inside me, but I willingly go with it, until he grabs my hand and drags me to a corner a little more quiet. I'm pushed against the wall and kissed roughly and I pretend this bloke would know me. Would really want me. That I wasn't entirely interchangable. Disposable.

He licks into my mouth and I don't like his taste. I don't like the way he touches me. I should tell him no. Ginny's voice is loud in my head. This bloke isn't what I want and I should _tell_ him.

But I don't.

I let him grope my arse until something that's coming at him out of nothing hits him like a train, throwing him off me, to the floor.

My mouth falls open, my eyes wide as saucers, as I find myself nose to nose with Draco Malfoy. A very _angry_ Draco Malfoy.

He grabs my wrists and pins them to the wall.

„What the _fuck_ are you doing?“ he growls.

My throat is dry. I can only stare at him. My whole body is singing, savouring his closeness. Wanting him much, much closer.

As if he heard me, he steps closer until we're flush. Until I can feel his heartbeat.

„You belong to me,“ he says, voice low.

I can only nod.

„Yes.“

„What the hell?“

The bloke from before is staring at us. One look from Draco has him tucking his tail, leaving us alone.

„Come home with me,“ Draco says and I take his hand.


	6. Chapter 6

We barely make it to the door before we're all over each other, desperate moans and clumsy hands tugging on clothing.

Just when I realize we won't make it to the bedroom, I'm pulled down to the floor, Draco kissing and kissing me. I lock my legs around his waist and I think he's trying to finally get my pants off, but I can't unlock my legs and he can't stop ravishing my mouth.

He growls against my lips and gropes for his wand. With a flick of his wrist, we're both naked. A shudder runs rough me.

For the first time, Draco hesitates. Pulls back just a little.

„Do you... is this okay?“

The question is so ridiculous that I don't bother answering it, instead pulling his head down to my lips and his hand between my legs, where I want it.

He's brimming with impatience, but his fingers are still almost gentle as they open me up.

I'm moaning, shivering. Arching and clinging to him. Begging him to fuck me.

„So eager,“ he murmurs, biting at my jaw.

„As if I'm the only one.“

His laugh hits me like a shock, sending sharp spikes of lust through my body. „You're definitely not.“

When he enters me, tears are rolling down my cheeks. I gasp as he's thrusting with force, driving into me. Pleasure almost blinds me, but behind all of that desire, that primal urge for _more_ and _harder_ , I realize I'm doing it again.

I mean, I want this. So much. But that's the problem. I want it _too_ much, this time. I want him more than this, I want _him._ And he'll fuck me and then leave me, like they all do.

I start crying.

Draco notices and stops immediately. Grey eyes are searching my face. Elegant fingers brush tears off my cheeks.

„Harry? What's wrong? Do you want to stop?“

He starts pulling out, but I cross my ankles behind his back and don't let him.

„I'm okay. Keep going,“ I say, trying to stop the sobs rising in me.

„I -“

„ _Keep going_.“

He starts moving again. This time though, he isn't thrusting anymore. He's rocking into me. Taking me slow and sweet.

It _hurts_ . It hurts hurts hurts how gentle he suddenly is. One hand brushes my messy fringe out of my face.

„You're mine,“ he says, underlining the words with a pointed roll of his hips.

I gasp and moan and clutch at his shoulders.

„No one else can have you,“ he says, the words vibrating in his chest.

He drops his head, mouths at my cheek. Then he says into my ear: „Tell me, Harry.“

I think I'm about to come.

„I'm yours,“ I manage to choke out.

Draco groans and starts fucking me harder, hitting my prostate on every thrust.

My orgasm takes me by susprise.

„Draco,“ I moan, my head falling back, legs drawing up. Back arching.

Two erratic thrusts later, I can feel him spilling inside me. Only then, I realize I didn't cast any protection charms.

„Draco?“

He's still on top of me, still inside me. His face is buried in my neck.

„I didn't cast protection spells,“ I whisper.

„I did,“ he says, voice muffled by my skin.

Relief floods through me and I relax. Draco lifts his head to look at me.

„You're so beautiful,“ he says, his fingers tracing my cheekbone.

I'm instantly bright red, turning my head away. I'm not beautiful at all.

He eases out of me and I miss him the moment he's gone, this weird, empty feeling confusing me. When Draco kisses me, slipping two fingers easily inside me, my dick twitches.

I can feel him grinning into the kiss.

After what feels like forever, he pulls back. His fingers remain where they are, barely moving. My skin feels too tight and I want to hide, yet never move.

„No one can do you better than me,“ he says. „Those stupid blokes won't give you what you need.“

I swallow thickly.

„You left,“ I say.

Pain crosses his features.

„I know. I'm sorry.“

I gaze up at him. „Will you do it again?“

His fingers slip out of me. He doesn't move, but his gaze leaves mine. My heart almost breaks.

„I don't want to. But... Harry, we can never work. How could we?“

My heartbeat is rabbit fast. He must feel it too, because he looks back at me, instinctively gathering me closer.

„I don't care about what people say. I don't care about the werewolf thing. I just want you.“

A little noise escapes Draco's mouth. It's almost pain. He stares at me.

„Merlin, Harry. You have to stop saying things like that.“

„It's true,“ I say stubbornly.

My hands are holding onto him.

„I want you,“ I repeat.

What I really mean is _I need you_. I think he knows. I think he hears me.

„Okay,“ he says slowly. Bends down to kiss me again.

„I won't leave. But I'm not sure I can stay, either.“

He kisses my cheek. The tip of my nose.

„Being with me will hurt you. And that's the last thing I want to do.“

I shake my head.

„Being with you is the only thing that _doesn't_ hurt me.“

I have to leave in the morning to be with Teddy and Andromeda. When I do, Draco almost doesn't let me. After several long kisses, I float over to Andromeda's, light as air, completely dazed.

We talk in circles for hours and I know I should focus. Sometimes I manage, but Draco is always present, at the front of my mind. I think about nothing but him.

„Are you sure, Harry?“ Andromeda asks me for the millionth time today.

Trying to be patient, I nod.

„Yes. It's what I would do. But this is your decision.“

The witch sighs and shoos me out of the house to think a little more alone, enjoy the quiet of her own thoughts.

I make a run for Grimmauld Place, knowing I risk splinching myself.

When I get home, Draco is in the kitchen, cooking. I stand in the doorframe and stare at him. He's so tall. So bloody handsome in his fitted jeans and casual jumper.

He turns to me. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

„There you are.“

I stare, wanting to touch.

„Hi.“

His smile widens and he puts down the wooden spoon, walking over to me. I tilt my head, gazing up at him.

He kisses me and I wrap my arms around his neck, tightly. His hands are on my waist, one slipping to my lower back. When I open my mouth, he groans, pulling me tighter. I can feel his erection pressing against my belly and push against it.

„Fuck,“ he says, one hand disappearing from my body as he fumbles for his wand, turning off the stove.

This time, we make it to the bedroom – barely. He undresses me with impatient, deft hands and I pull on his clothes like a clumsy four-year-old, so that he helps me take them off.

Our hands are all over each other as we roll on the bed, his fingers gripping my thighs, stroking the slender curve of my arse. I pant into his neck, then kiss his collarbones. His cheekbones.

I've never wanted to touch like this. Never wanted someone so completely. Everything about Draco is enchanting to me.

The heat in my belly grows and our touches become purposeful, demanding. I spread my legs and he kisses the inside of my thighs. My legs are trembling under his lips.

„Turn over for me, darling,“ he whisper against my skin and I do as he told me to.

When he licks his way up my thighs, I forget how to breathe. My skin is hot, enflamed, as his hands part my cheeks. His tongue swipes over my entrance and I moan loudly.

I think he's grinning, then I'm too far gone to form coherent thoughts. The world dissolves in heat and pleasure and his hot tongue.

Just when I think I'll come just like this, from his mouth on me, he pulls back. His hands on my hips urge me to turn around again. When he kisses me, I can very faintly taste myself on his tongue and maybe that should be disgusting, but it only turns me on more.

I pull him closer, inviting him to settle between my thighs, but he leans back on his elbows, pulling me with him until I'm on top.

„Will you ride me?“

I almost pass out. I think I've done that only once before and I've been very drunk then.

Clumsily, I swing a leg over him to straddle his hips. His erection is nudging my arse.

Draco grins at me, his hands running over my thighs. Caressing them.  
„Mount up, darling.“

I rise on my knees. It takes me a moment of fumbling around until I get the position right. Draco keeps his eyes on me, hands ghosting over my legs and I'm burning up under his gaze.

It is pure fire as I sink down. That perfect point when pleasure is tinged with pain and pain morphs into pure pleasure.

„So good for me,“ Draco whispers as I'm halfway there.

I blush fiercely, my cock telling him just exactly how much I like his praise.

The last couple inches are difficult, but as soon as I'm seated, skin on skin with Draco, his hands slide up, resting on my hips. We look at each other while I wait for my body to adjust to the intrusion.

My first movement is a little awkward.  
„I don't know what I'm doing,“ I say.

Draco's expression doesn't falter. „Just show me how you like it.“

I stop worrying about doing it wrong and experiment with rolling my hips and bouncing up and down. It feels good and Draco's mouth falling open in pleasure, his hips twitching, would be enough for me to keep going.

But when I lean back a little, I see stars.

„Fuck,“ I breathe and I think Draco grins.

My movements become faster as I'm chasing this heat, trying to hit the spot again. Draco's hips rise to meet mine and soon, we're both moaning, our bodies slick with sweat.

„Harry, I -“

I think he's trying to slow me down with his hands on my hips, but I can't, and so he comes with a shout. With my name on his lips. I watch him and think that this is by far the most erotic experience of my life.

I slide from his lap, feeling the familiar emptiness, and stretching out beside him, tracing the shape of his lips.

„I'm sorry,“ he says, grey eyes on me. „I wanted you to come first.“

I smile. „I liked watching you.“

He rolls over, on top of me. Kisses me while I shamelessly grind against his thigh. When he kisses climb lower, I moan, my hands sinking into his soft hair.

He doesn't waste any time taking me into his mouth. Two fingers push inside me, twisting until he finds the spot that makes me gasp and writhe.

It takes less than a minute for him to make me come like this, sucking me and working his fingers.

He lets me come into his mouth and I shed a few tears, then pull him up and kiss him, tasting my cum on his tongue.

„You're very good at giving head,“ I say breathlessly.

Draco grins. „I know.“

He brushes his nose against mine.

„You're very good at taking my cock,“ he whispers and if I hadn't just come, I'd be rock-hard again.

„Sleep here,“ I say.

Grey eyes drown in mine.

„I will.“

* * *

I wake up with a warm, heavy weight on m chest. Irriated and strangely happy, I blink my eyes open. My hands are carding through soft, messy hair. Harry.

Something powerful surges through me and I pull the Gryffindor tighter to my chest. He stirs, maybe because of the morning light coming through the window, maybe because of my hands.

His eyes are glowing as he looks up at me.

„Hey.“

I can't help the smile spreading over my face. I can't help but lean down and kiss him.

It was only meant to be a short one, a good-morning, but the moment our lips touch, I realize that this won't just be one quick kiss.

Panting into open-mouthed, sloppy kisses, we come all over each other's fingers.

Harry burrows his head in my neck afterward, and my arms lock around him. We're still breathless and my head is swimming.

„Let me get up and I'll make you breakfast,“ I say, but Harry stubbornly shakes his head, clinging to me.

„I'm fucking starving, Potter. Get off.“

Now he does, if reluctantly so. Big, green eyes gaze at me with this kicked-puppy look that almost has me falling right back into bed.

Instead, I just lean down and kiss him once more, rays of sunlight highlighting our flushed faces and puffy eyes.

„You're so damn sweet,“ I say, then get up for real.

I take a shower, intending to wash off the night and regain some of my composure. But only about two minutes in, the bathroom door opens. Harry slips into the room. Pads over to the shower and gazes at me, biting his lip. He's only wearing his pants and he looks so _adorable_ , my heart aches.

„I was trying to get clean, Harry.“

I was trying to find my way back to reality.

„Are you leaving?“

I almost laugh. Foam is clinging to my body and I haven't even washed my hair yet. But the expression on Harry's face sobers me up.

Against better judgement, I hold out my hand. „Come here.“

He does so immediately, eagerly. Clumsy.

His arms wrap around my neck – he likes that, hanging onto me like that – and I capture his face in my hands, caressing his cheeks, pressing a kiss to his lips.

„Still not enough?“ I whisper as he presses his hips against my thigh.

He just shakes his head. I might be mistaken, but I feel like his eyes are telling me _never_.

„I don't think I can get hard right now.“

„I don't care.“

The moment he says it, I realize that this isn't about sex for him.

Harry Potter is needy. He wants me to stay with him and kiss him out of bed, wants me to hug him in the kitchen and ask him about his day.

My heart hurts so intensely, I wonder if it's possible it might just stop working.

I want that, too. All those things.

But I can't have them. Not with Harry – maybe not with anyone.

„Harry, I'll have to go back to France eventually. You know that, right?“

The Gryffindor looks down. The warm water has cooled somehow.

„Yeah. Yeah, I know.“

He takes a tiny step back, trying to step out of our embrace. Suddenly, I think I'll die if I let him go.

„But not yet.“

I pull him flush against me with my hands on his hips, claiming his mouth again.

After our shower, I make breakfast for us. Harry is sitting at the table in my shirt and boxers and for one worried moment, I think I'll never be able to eat breakfast without him again.

I try to think back, try to remember if it was like this with Nicolas, my first and only boyfriend. We dated for one and a half years, until I became too busy with my work and he met someone new.

I remember being smitten – I remember wanting him around after a long day of work. I remember slipping into bed with him, taking him under our covers and making him sigh my name.

But I don't remember needing him.

Harry gazes at me with his vibrant eyes and I have to look away. The emotion whirling in my chest... it's fear.

„How did you become a werewolf?“ the Gryffindor asks quietly.

I slowly put the slice of toast I was about to dig into back on my plate. A long minute passes before I look at him.

„Greyback bit me during the first full moon after you killed Voldemort.“

„The marks on your back?“

I nod. They're hideous, I know. Werewolf bites always leave scars.

I look at my plate, then at my cup of lukewarm coffee.

„I had returned to Hogwarts to... look for my wand. And to gather some things in case I'd go to Azkaban. Maybe...“

Now I lock eyes with Harry. My heartbeat is just a touch too fast.

„Maybe I was really just hoping to see you.“

Harry's lips part. His eyes flick over my face. „Why?“

„To thank you for finally setting me free. And to try and apologize for all the things I've done. The mistakes I made.“

I rub my temple.

„I'm sorry,“ he says.

I cast him an irritated look.

„Why would you be? It's not like we had made plans. Instead of owling you like a normal person, I just crept through the destroyed castle, hoping you'd jump out of some shady alcove.“

I shrug the memory off and brace myself for what comes next. Even after many years, it still hurts talking about it. Horror is prickling under my skin whenever I think about it.

„When I left, I walked along the edge of the forest to avoid running into other students or teaches.“

I flip my knife on the plate. „Instead, I ran into Greyback.“

Harry looks pained. Always the Saviour.

„I don't know if he was waiting specifically for me or just for _someone._ But either way, I didn't stand a chance against him. He would have killed me if it hadn't been for Hagrid.“

Now I almost smile as I look at Harry.

„He saved my life. No one could have blamed him for letting Greyback mangle me, but he saved my ungrateful arse.“

I'll never forget that day. Pain, as intense as a cruciatus, grass and moist dirt under my face and hands. Hagrid roaring and Greyback fleeing into the shadows of the Forbidden Forest.

„He brought me to his hut and did the best he could to patch me up. I stayed with him for a week.“

Harry leans forward.

„You stayed for a _week_? But... I visited Hagrid during that time. I must have. I was there a lot after the battle.“

I nod, my lips quirking.

„You did. And Hagrid told you Fang had the pox and you couldn't come inside.“

Harry's jaw drops. An incrediulous smile spreads on his face.

„So that was you?“

„Yes. I was the one with the metaphorical pox.“

Harry shakes his head. „Wild.“

„Well, Hagrid gave me time to rest and he also gave me a crash course in lycanthropy. What was to come and how I had to protect myself and others. By the time of the trials, I had already taught myself to brew Wolfsbane Potion.“

Silence falls over us. I watch Harry pick up some berries and chew them thoughtfully.

„And you haven't told anyone?“

I hesitate. My mouth twitches.

„I told my mother, eventually.“

„What did she say?“

Harry's regard makes it obvious that he has read my expression correctly.

„Didn't go so well. She kicked me out and never spoke to me again.“

„Fuck, Draco. I'm so sorry.“

I shrug, going for nonchalant, but my shaking hands betray me.

„It was to be expected. When my father found pictures of naked men under my bed, he almost killed me, so...“

Harry's eyes widen.

„Jesus.“

I shrug again and sigh.

„It's not... they weren't always like that. I mean, I'm not saying they were good parents. But my father – he didn't hit me often. I can count the times he did on one hand. Only when I made him very angry.“

„It's still not okay. I know... Being punished for something you have no control over is fucking shit.“

He's talking as if he'd kow the feeling, but that's impossible. He's Harry Potter. People have always only celebrated him for who he is.

Not to say he's had it easy. I'm perfectly aware that his life has been harder than mine in many aspects.

But this feeling of rejection... it took me a while to get over it. Especially since my mother used to be my rock – the one person that loved me no matter what, even when she realized I'd never make a woman happy the way she deserves.

Losing that, this person that has been in my corner since day one, was like waking up after a nightmare only to realize it wasn't a dream.

„It is,“ I agree. „It took me some time, but eventually, I stopped living for everyone else and started living for me. Living the way I wanted to. Doing what I believe is right. Which includes fucking pretty boys into the mattress until they fall asleep on me.“

Harry laughs, accepting me terminating the conversation.

„I have to go to Andi's soon,“ he says. „I think she'll call you later.“

„Alright.“

We look at each other for a moment, our half-eaten breakfast between us. I wonder if he's thinking the same as me – that Andromeda making a decision means I'll be back in France soon. I'll be leaving Harry.

„Well, I should get going,“ I say and get up.

I planned to beeline to the coat rack, say goodbye and apparate. But my feet carry me to Harry first. I bend down and kiss him, one hand to his cheek.

„I'll see you later.“

Andromeda's face is pale when she opens the door for me. She looks like she hasn't slept in days.

Harry is smiling at me when I sit down at the table with him and my aunt. Under the kitchen table, Harry's foot rests over mine. I keep my eyes trained on Andromeda, while slowly rubbing my shin against Harry's calf.

„Would someone have to bite him if we are to do this?“ the witch asks.

I shake my head and fold my hands.

„No, that won't be necessary. I would inject him with a dissolution containing werewolf saliva.“

 _My_ saliva, to be precise, but she doesn't have to know that.

Andromeda gives a jerky nod. „And you are certain that this is the best option for Teddy?“

We're all looking at the boy sleeping curled up on the sofa. I regard his pale blue hair, the papery skin and take my time with the answer.

„I believe that out of our options right now, this is the one that will promise him the healthiest life without pains. But as a registered werewolf, society will... not make it easy for him to lead a successful life.“

Andromeda looks at Harry.

„I think it's for the best, Andi,“ he says softly.

„Could we... maybe, just for now, don't register him? So he can decide that for himself when he gets older?“

I have never seen the regal Black so pleading.

„We can. I only have to make sure you understand that this is illegal. If someone finds out, you'll face serious punishment.“

„Not Teddy though, right?“

Now, I have to smile. „No.“

„But what about you?“ Harry asks, a crease on his forehead.

I arch a brow at him. He flushes and looks away.

„I'll be fine.“

Andromeda takes a deep breath.

„And you will help him adjust to the transitions?“

I nod earnestly. „I will. Even when I'm back in France, you can always owl me and I can come visit and answer questions or help tackling arising problems.“

„What about Wolfsbane?“ Harry asks.

I hesitate. „I know many potioneers that are well-versed in brewing Wolfsbane. I can recommend you some.“

Andromeda flips her hair back in a mindess, elegant gesture.

„How expensive is it?“

„It won't be expensive for you,“ I say.

Under the table, Harry's leg presses against mine.

„Alright. Then let's get this over with.“  
  


I sense that Andromeda wants to go through with it before she loses her nerve, so I'm quick and efficient with my preperations. Harry sits with Teddy when I finally join my little patient. Teddy knows what will happen to him – Harry somehow managed to explain it to him in a way that doesn't have the boy running for the door.

„This will sting just a little,“ I warn him, big green eyes fixed on me. Two pairs of them, actually.

Teddy squeezes Harry's hand as I inject him the poison. My heart breaks a little.

But I know that it's for the best.

The act itself only takes thirty seconds. Thirty seconds to change a whole life.

„Perfect,“ I say and tap my wand against the crook of Teddy's elbow, sealing the wound.

„It itches,“ he says.

„Yes. I'm going to give you some potions to make you sleep now,“ I say.

The first days of transition are painful. It's best if he sleeps through them.

When I take a blue, swirly potion out of my pocket, Teddy frowns suspiciously and presses himself against Harry's side. The Gryffindor drapes and arm around the urchin's small shoulders.

„What's the matter, Teddy? The potion won't hurt you.“

Teddy blinks up at him.

„I don't like those,“ he whispers, apparently thinking I couldn't hear him.

„It'll only make you tired, kiddo.“

Harry strokes over the kid's head of black hair. Under his hand, it turns an icy blue.

„I don't want to,“ Teddy says.

Pearls of sweat are forming on his forehead. The poison is kicking in.

With one swift motion, I draw my wand and summon a glass of pumpkin juice. Andromeda gazes at me from behind Harry.

When Teddy isn't looking, I slip the potion into the glass. „Here you go, Teddy. Drink up.“

At first, Teddy doesn't want to take anything from me, but Harry manages to convince him.

„My tummy hurts,“ Teddy says as he hands me the glass back.

Andromeda frowns at me.

„It'll pass in a minute.“

My voice is light and I get up. The kid's eyelids are already dropping. A minute later, he's fast asleep.

Andromeda gets up and gathers her grandson in her arms.

„I'll take him up. Would you boys mind staying here?“

„Of course not,“ I say and array myself on the sofa next to Harry.

It's going to be a long few days.

I stay with Teddy for three days, giving him sleeping draughts and nourishing potions, while Andromeda holds him when he's twitching in his sleep and Harry reads stories to him when he's half-awake.

I catch a few hours of sleep on the sofa. Once, when Andromeda is napping in Teddy's bed, Harry crawls up to me, tucking his head under my chin and we kip together.

On the third day, Teddy gets up and I start instructing Andromeda on the care of a werewolf.

„You really don't have to do much,“ I say. „He'll just have a proclivity for meat now. He might grow stronger than a human can, but since he's young, I doubt it'll be much of a problem adjusting for him and controlling his powers.“

A day later, I finally leave the house and get started on brewing Wolfsbane for Teddy – enough to last for the first few months. I have to do it in one of St. Mungo's labs, since I don't have one of my own here. It's not too difficult to get the permission, but... I forgot what it's like working with people who resent the ground your walking on.

When I get home that night, I'm exhausted and defeated.

No matter what I'm trying to do to redeem myself, if I spend all my life helping other people, I will always be Draco Malfoy. And those people don't even know I'm a werewolf on top of everything else.

I take off my coat and put in on the rack, toeing off my shoes, wishing I was someone like Pansy – someone whose face everyone has already forgotten.

Something hits me with the force of a bullet and I stagger against the wall.

„Harry!“

The Gryffindor kisses me, pulling on my clothes. I sigh, unable to resist the warm body pressed against me. The way Harry looks at me.

His arms loop around my neck and my hands rest on his hips, thumbs drawing slow circles.

„Have you had dinner yet?“ Harry asks, a little breathlessly.

I can't help but laugh.

„No, I'm starving, actually.“

We cook pasta together and I doubt the dish will turn out too well, since we keep getting distracted. I just have to run my fingers through Harry's hair, pull him close with an arm around his waist, give his arse a squeeze when he leans over the pot.

We end up forgetting the pasta altogether, when Harry's hands grow indecent, palming the bulge in my pants.

I growl against his mouth and pull him in by the hips. I'm almost surprised when he drops his pants and braces his hands on the kitchen table. He looks over his shoulder at me and I almost come on the spot.

We end up fucking right there, the table squeaking under our weight as I drive into Harry's body. He is hardly moaning this time, only gasping, hands white where they're pressed against the flat surface of the table.

When I come inside him, I do so with a loud, guttural groan that I'm ashamed of. Slowly, I pull out, watching my cum trickling down Harry's thighs.

„You're too thin,“ I say, one hand trailing over his hip.

He pushes himself up off the table, pulling up his pants. His mouth is downturned.

„Wow, thanks.“

My heart clenches. Before he can walk off, I catch his wrists and kiss him.

„You're still gorgeous. I just think I should cook for you more.“

He rolls his eyes, but his mouth softens. I kiss him again, apparently never getting enough of it.

When I catch him by his thighs and haul him up, setting him down on the kitchen table, his breath hitches. Then he giggles and shakes his head.

„Not done yet?“

I swallow and nip at his lip.

„I think you're not done.“

I mouth at his neck. I can't look at him when I say: „Sorry. It's close to full moon, I.... sorry.“

„What?“

Harry's hands are clutching at my shoulders, his head tilted back to give me better access to his neck.

„I'm sorry for being a selfish git. That fuck can't have been enjoyable for you.“

Harry moans when I gently push him back and unbutton his trousers, slipping one hand inside to stroke his erection.

„Oh... no, I – _fuck._ I liked it.“

I decide not to discuss this right now. There are more important things. Like making my lover come.

My knees hurt as I kneel before the table, pulling Harry close enough to be able to lick him.

As I expected, he's going wild in no time. Just when I want to get up to wank him, his back arches and he comes, moaning my name.

I grin as I get up, flicking my wand and cleaning us both. Harry is still breathing heavily, staring at the ceiling. I reach out and pull him up. Kiss him.

His legs wrap around my waist and we snog for an eternity. We would have for even longer if my stomach didn't growl.

Harry laughs against my lips. „I think it's time for cold pasta.“

Not sleeping in Harry's bed tonight almost kills me. Especially when I see the look in his green eyes. So infinitely sad.

But I can't. I'm already thinking about Harry twenty-four seven. It's not good for either of us if we start sharing our bed every night.

Afterall, this is almost over.

I'll stay until after Teddy's first transition. Then, I'll be gone again and Harry will go back to his muggle lovers and I will go back to my work.  
It's for the best, I remind myself sternly.

But it doesn't feel like it. Not when I watch Teddy getting stronger, then watch Harry watching his godson with a vibrant smile on his face.

Not when I come home in the evening and Harry jumps me, blowing me with my back against the door, my coat still on. His green eyes gazing up at me.

Two days before the full moon, I tell Harry I'll have to leave. We're sitting at the breakfast table and I clutch my cup of hot coffee, hoping it will renew my energy. And stop this horrible yearning for Harry.

I haven't touched him during the last two days and I can tell he's sulking. And irritated. And hurt.

But since I've taken him five days ago, only then feeling the werewolf growling inside me when I was already deep inside _Harry_ , going too fast, not making him moan, but rather bruising him with my too harsh thrusts, I know I can't touch him when I'm like this.

„What? No. You have to be here for Teddy!“

Green eyes are staring at me accusingly. I scrub a hand through my hair, trying to scratch the itch making my skin crawl.

„I know. But... I doubt I'm much help right now. I need – look, if you need me, I'll be right with you.“

Harry frowns. „Is this because you're not feeling well?“

I can only nod.

„How can I help?“

I close my eyes, willing the images conjured in my head to vanish. This is wrong.

„You can't. I just need some space and rest.“

„You can rest here.“

Harry reaches for me, trying to take my hand. I pull it away as if he'd have burned me. I don't think I could bear touching him right now.

His face falls. The corners of his mouth pull downward and he looks away.

„You're already bored?“

„Pardon?“

Green eyes are trained on the plate in front of him as if he'd be trying to count the crumbs.

„You're already tired of me? I know this is just... we just fuck. But – am I that bad? You don't want me anymore?“

I make a noise, full of pain and agony, that makes Harry's eyes snap up. Fixing on me.

„It's the opposite, Harry.“

The Gryffindor blinks at me.

„What do you mean?“

I take a shaky exhale.

„You have no idea... I want you so much, right now. It scares me. I can't – I'm dangerous.“

„What? No, Draco. You're not dangerous.“

Harry gets up and skirts the table. Crouches down next to me and takes my hands. I can't look into his eyes.

„I'm not afraid of you, Draco. Stay here. With me.“

I swallow thickly.

„I don't want to hurt you.“

„You only do when you leave me.“

The truth is speaking out of Harry's quiet whisper. But he's only saying that because he doesn't know better.

Abruptly, I get up.

„I have to go.“

I don't look back as I stride out of the kitchen, breaking into a run as soon as I see the door.

The sun is already setting when I appear in front of the gates enclosing the Hogwarts grounds.

Hagrid's face breaks into a smile as he sees me.

„Harry! Haven't seen yer in months!“

I'm pulled into a bone-crushing hug.

„Is Draco here?“ I ask when I finally entangle myself from the giant.

Hagrid's big face freezes.  
„Malfoy? How d'yer... No. No, why?“

I have to smile. Hagrid has always been such a horrible liar. It's astonishing, really, that he managed to keep Draco's secret for so long.

„I know, Hagrid. I know everything.“

* * *

When I step into the hut, Draco is sitting at Hagrid's table, hair messy and eyes sunken. The moment he sees me, he jumps to his feet.

„What are you doing here?“

„Taking you home.“

For a split second, I think Draco will attack me. His eyes are blazing, spitting fire. He looks like he's about to scratch either my face or his own.

„Come home with me,“ I say and hold out my hand. „I trust you.“

Draco doesn't move. Not one mililmetre. We stare at each other, Hagrid staring at us, Fang drooling all over the dirty floor of the hut.

„Alright,“ Draco finally says.

He takes my outstretched hand. Then he turns to Hagrid.

„You've never seen a thing,“ he says, his gaze steel.

We fall through the door to Grimmauld Place together, clawing at each other. Draco moans into my mouth and I've never seen him this wild with it.

Yet, when I try to drag him to the sofa, he refuses.

„No,“ he says, voice wrecked. „We're not having sex. We – no.“

„I don't mind rough,“ I try to assure him, but I can tell by the set of his jaw, by the look in his eyes, that I'm not going to convince him tonight.

I mean – I could seduce him. I know I could. But that would be wrong.

So I just sigh and brush the hair of his sweaty forehead.

„Okay.“ I press a chaste kiss to his lips, then pull back.

„My door is open tonight,“ I say before I leave him in the living room and go upstairs.

True to my word, I leave the door to my bedroom ajar the whole night, but Draco never comes in. I think I can hear him wanking, but maybe I'm just imagining that while I'm furiously fisting my own dick, wishing it was Draco touching me.

In the morning, we're both exhausted. Draco looks like he just ran a marathon and I plan to send him straight back to bed when a patronus bursts into the living room.

It's Andi's lizard.

 _Draco, Teddy needs you_ , is all the animal says.

Draco locks eyes with me and we don't exchange a word as we get up and head to the door.


	7. Chapter 7

Andromeda is a little hysterical when we arrive at her house. Teddy is fine – only the normal symptoms of the upcoming full moon. Draco, despite his own rather disastrous state, is endlessly patient with both Teddy and Andromeda.

Watching him, face gaunt, eyes haunted, sweettalking my godson and soothing Andromeda does strange things to me. The urge to go to him, touch him, is almost irresistible.

More than once, I find myself halfway there, only to remember myself and pull back. I watch his mouth and ache.

I'm proving to be just as bad of a godfather as my own was, because I can hardly focus on Teddy. I'll pet his hair and hold his fists when he's thrashing about, but my eyes are on Draco and Draco only. He catches me once, twice, three times and tries to look admonishing, but the heat, the want in his eyes betrays him.

I've never been wanted like this before. It's heady. It scares me in the best way.

I know with a groundbreaking, gut-turning certainty, that I'd do almost everything for this man. I'd kill for him, die for him. Hurt for him.

„I think he is going to be fine. Just remember to keep the door locked while he's in his wolf shape. The Wolfsbane will keep him sane, but he is only a small child. He might hurt you unintentionally.“

„But... he'll be all alone,“ Andromeda says, staring at Draco.

My lover swallows and I want to lick his throat.

„That isn't to be helped. Werewolves usually are alone during transition.“

I think of Lupin. Of Sirius and my dad. Pettigrew.

A splendid idea forms in my mind – the best I've ever had. But I don't blurt it out, not right now. There will be time later. And I want to tell Draco first.

„Can't you stay while he's transformed?“ Andromeda asks. Pleads, really.

I can tell how difficult it is for Draco to stay calm.

„No, I'm afraid I can't. I really have to go now, Mrs. Tonks. I'll check on you in the morning, alright?“

Andi protests, but Draco leaves anyway. I go with him to the apparition point.

„Are you sure you don't need me tonight?“

My hands are reaching for him. Always reaching, needing to touch.

Draco rolls his eyes.

„I've gotten by perfectly fine for five years now, Potter. I don't need you.“

His words cut straight through me. He sees it and his voice softens.

„Thank you for your offer, but your godson needs you more.“

I know that he's right, so I force a nod.

„Keep Andromeda out of his room. Alright? Young werewolves can be as dangerous as the ones without wolfsbane.“

I nod again.

„Where will you go?“ I ask.

Draco sends a crooked smile my way.

„I'll curl up in one of the unused bedrooms of yours, if that's alright.“

„Yeah. Of course. Do you need -?“

„I'm fine,“ he cuts me off.

„But -“

He silences me with a kiss, then puts his hands on my cheeks.

„Stop worrying about me, Harry.“

Hearing my godson scream in pain and not being able to do anything to help him ranks under the top five of the worst experiences of my life. It's as horrible as it was listening to Hermione's screams as Bellatrix tortured her, and I didn't think I'd ever experience something alike again.

One minute in, and I have to physically restrain Andromeda to keep her from charging into Teddy's room.

The moonlight is illuminating the kitchen as I keep Andromeda in a dead lock, her hand away from her wand.

Only ten minutes after the howling and crying has stopped and we're both bathed in cold sweat, I trust to let go of her.

„That was the worst part,“ I say to us both. Andromeda just nods.

It was, but what follows isn't exactly nice either. Teddy is whining, howling. Scratching at the door. Of course – we never leave him alone in his room, with his door locked. He must be scared out of his mind. We tried preparing him, tried to tell him what was to come, that it wasn't anything bad, but I bet he has forgotten all about it already.

Andromeda is pale as snow, but she stopped struggling.

After about an hour, Teddy finally falls quiet. Neither Andromeda nor I talk.

Horrible person that I am, my thoughts keep drifting to Draco. He's always been alone during his transitions. And now he is alone in my bedroom. I'm sure he is worried about Teddy, too.

Maybe... I could pop by? Just ten minutes, tell him we're alright.

I glance at Andromeda. She seems fairly pulled together.

„I forgot a potion Draco gave me for Teddy at Grimmauld,“ I lie. „I'll get it real quick.“

When Andromeda just nods, I'm baffled. I was sure she'd object.

Perhaps that means it really is fine if I leave for a minute. Afterall, there's nothing I can do around here anyway.

So I hurry to throw on my shoes and jacket and race through the night to the apparition point.

* * *

I'm watching a fox slink through the little forest behind Andromeda's house. He's searching for food to feed his cups. When he first laid eyes on me, he was suspicious. Wary of me. But soon, he realized I wasn't looking to get me some fresh fox tonight, so he relaxed and continued his quest.

Hearing the howling of a fellow werewolf was horrible. Everything inside of me, every instinct, screamed at me to go help him.

But, luckily, even as a wolf, my rational side won the fight and I stayed put. Eventually, Teddy stopped howling.

Just when I think I could maybe nap a little, the door to Andromeda's house opens. Harry dashes out there.

I stare at him. If I was in human shape, I'd hex him.

How dare he leave?

My eyes snap back to the house and I soundlessly get to all fours, every muscle tense. It doesn't take long until I hear a wolf howling.

And a woman shout.

This time, I don't allow myself to think about it. I'm afraid my old, cowardish self might win and I'd let an innoccent boy become a killer.

I'm fast as I run to the house. The closed door doesn't prove too much of a challenge. I'm through in less than a minute.

In the living room, Andromeda is lying on the floor, trying to fight off a baby wolf – the size of a golden retriever. I can't smell blood yet, but I don't waste any time jumping the cup, growling. I catch Teddy by his neck and pull him away from Andromeda.

The witch starts screaming even louder as she sees me, pointing her wand at me.

There is not much a witch or wizard can do to harm a werewolf. Not alone. But there are some spells that could potentially be dangerous for me or Teddy, so I carry him to the door and back into the forest.

Luckily, it's not too hard to throw Andromeda off our track, even though it means we have to go further than I'm comfortable with.

After his innitial struggle, Teddy eventually goes limp. He trusts me. We're family – werewolfs and Blacks. In his wolf form, he knows that with deep certainty.

Finally, I drop him to the ground. The little wolf stares up at me, eyes bright green. Almost human.

I growl at him.

 _You little shit_ , my gaze says. _Look at the mess you made._

* * *

Draco isn't at Grimmauld Place.

I try to keep calm, try not to read things into this that aren't there. Maybe he went to Hagrid afterall. Maybe he needed to get out of the house.

Whatever the reason, _I_ need to get back to Teddy. I can't start searching for Draco. It would take too long.

When I get back to Andromeda's house, my blood freezes. The door is kicked in. There are scratches all over the hallway.

„Andi!“ I scream, running inside, wand drawn.

No one is here. There are more scratches on the floor of the living room, some up the stairs to Teddy's room. I dash upstairs.

Teddy's door isn't kicked in.

I groan loudly and want to hex myself. Andromeda let him out.

I should have known.

This is my fault.

I start shouting for them again. When no one answers, I send my patronus to Ron and Hermoine.

It doesn't take the three of us too long to find Andromeda in the forest, in tears and with some scratches over her arms and legs.

„What the hell, Andi? What happened?“

My voice is loud in the night. Ron and Hermoine look like ghosts under the night sky.

„Another werewolf stole Teddy,“ Andromeda says.

She's so hysterical, she can hardly breathe.

Of course, I know who that _other werewolf_ is instantly. My stomach drops.

„Ron, Hermione. I need you to take Andi home.“

My best friends stare at me.

„We need to find Teddy, Harry. He could be in great danger. What if Greyback took him?“ Ron says.

I bite my lip.

„Doesn't Rose need you?“

„Rose is fine with Ginny,“ Hermoine says, taking a step forward.

„We need to get Andi home,“ I say quietly.

Both Ron and Hermione seem to understand.

„I'll take her home to Gin, then come back and help you search,“ Ron says.

No no no no no.

But what can I say?

„Okay.“

I try to slow our search. To waste enough time that we won't find Draco.

But there is no wasting time with Hermione Granger. When Ron comes back as well, I'm fighting a losing battle.

„I got something,“ Hermione says, wand raised high.

„You guys can go home,“ I say, in a last, futile attempt.

Ron only shakes his head at me.

We push through some thick bushes. Thorns are ripping our trousers, even though Hermione tries to blow a way free for us.

„Oh my god.“

She stops, both arms outstretched.

At the sight before me, my heart clenches.

Two wolfs, a big one and a small one, are sleeping under the trees. The big one is curled around his smaller companion. Holding him protectively.

His eyes open as he senses us. As a wolf, they're still grey, but only right around the iris. The grey fades into a dark brown. His eyes find mine.

The wolf slowly gets up, waking the smaller one.

Teddy the wolf has green, vibrant eyes. I'm sure it must have something to do with his morphing.

„Merlin's balls,“ Ron whispers.

„Guys, he doesn't seem to want any harm,“ I say, taking Hermoine's left arm. „I think he's protecting Teddy.“

Hermione's sharp eyes dart to me, before she fixes them on the wolves again. Teddy is making little howling noises, but they don't sound as scared anymore. He recognizes me.

Slowly, I sink to my knees.

„Teddy,“ I say. „It's me.“

But he doesn't come to me, even though he's flicking his tail. He stays put at Draco's side.

„That is a werewolf on Wolfsbane,“ Hermoine says quietly. „They'd have attacked us if they weren't.“

Hermoine's eyes find mine again. For the first time, she lowers her wand.

„Harry? You know who that is, right?“

I swallow. Grimace.

Draco is snarling and Ron lifts his wand, ready to attack.

„No,“ I shout, stepping in front of his arm.

„What the fuck?“ Ron stares at me.

„Harry, who is it?“ Hermoine takes my arm, then pushes down Ron's wrist.

„I can't tell you,“ I say pleadingly. „But they mean no harm.“

Against all odds, I pray that Hermione won't figure it out. But it's _Hermione_.

„Oh my god. Harry, is that... Draco?“

The werewolf snarls again and I think I can see fear in his eyes.

I hold her gaze.

„It doesn't matter who it is. All that matters is that he is not dangerous.“

Hermione takes a step back.

„It _does_ matter, Harry. Is he registered?“

My silence says it all.

„Merlin's bloody balls,“ Ron says, staring at Draco and Teddy. „Malfoy's always been a shit like that.“

„He'd lose his _job_ ,“ I say. „He's not dangerous, I swear.“

Ron doesn't even look at me, so I turn to Hermione.

„We didn't know about Remus, either.“

„But Dumbledore knew about him! The Ministry knew!“

I take her hand, imploring her to believe me. To understand.

„He couldn't say, because he was afraid to be ostracized. You know how it is. You know how it is for him _already_ . He doesn't mean anyone any harm, I _swear_.“

Hermione hesitates, but Ron stares at me as if I'd have lost my mind.

„Merlin, Harry. What did he do to you?“

„He has to be registered, Harry. I'm _sorry_ , but it's necessary.“

A deep growl startles us all. Before I know what's happening, Draco has charged at her, teeth flashing. Hermoine screams, loud and high, as she's thrown to her back, Draco over her. Teddy howls and Ron shouts: „Stupor!“

The red light hits Draco's body and nothing happens.

„Draco, _stop_!“

Unafraid, I push a hand in the tangled fur of his shoulder and hold on tight. The wolf turns his head toward me, eyes wide.

„Don't hurt her, Draco. We'll talk about it later. Okay? Just... let her go.“

For a long while, Draco just stares at me. I hold his gaze and keep my hand tangled in his fur.

Finally, he steps back. Lets Hermoine get up, panting and whimpering quietly.

I smile at him.

Teddy comes running, hiding behind Draco, while the werewolf is still looking at me.

The morning is still early and the light still grey when we all sit down at Andromeda's large kitchen table. Teddy is sleeping on Andromeda's lap.

Draco looks like he'd faint any moment, but he's not allowed to sleep. Ron stares at him as if he'd want to murder the Slytherin, while Hermione's gaze is thoughtful. I wish I could climb into Draco's lap, stroke his hair and tell him it would all be alright.

But for that to be true, I have to convince the people on this table to keep their mouth shut.

„You can't tell the Ministry,“ I say in to the silence.

„It's policy,“ Hermione says, looking at Draco.

The blond clears his throat.

„If you really want to do this, then I can't stop you. But... I really need you to think about this: I am one of the best in my field – at age twenty-three – because I'm... I'm a werewolf. If the Ministry had known about my condition, they would have never allowed me to become a Healer. And then Teddy would still be suffering.“

„He isn't exactly well now, is he?“ Ron snaps.

„He's better than before,“ I say.

Hermione appears torn.

„We're really working on juster laws regarding lycantropes.“

„Yes, and that's awesome. But right now, the laws aren't just. And I'll be in Azkaban when you sell me out.“

„It's not like there weren't enough reasons why you belong there,“ Ron says.

Draco stiffens. I'm quicker to answer.

„Shut your mouth, Ron. You have no idea what Draco has done to redeem himself.“

Ron's brows almost disappear in his fringe. „Oh, Merlin. Please tell me he doesn't have you brain-washed now, too.“

I swallow. „What's that supposed to mean?“

Ron's eyes flicker to Draco. „You know what I mean.“

He means the long string of arseholes I invited into my bed. My absolutely dreadful taste in men.

„This is different,“ I say.

Ron looks horrified. Hermione opens her mouth to say something, but Andromeda speaks first. She has been worryingly quiet since we got her here.

„Draco saved my life. And Teddy, even though... I'm still not quite sure if this has been the right decision.“

She looks at Ron. „But he doesn't deserve Azkaban. Not many people actually do.“

Hermione sighs deeply. Then she looks directly at Draco. „Have you ever harmed anyone since you've turned? On purpose or accident.“

Draco's answer is prompt. „I haven't. Only myself.“

After a beat, he arches a brow and adds: „You can give me Veritaserum and ask again, if needed.“

Hermione shakes her head. „I believe you.“

Ron looks at his wife in agony. „Hermione...“

„He saved Andromeda and Teddy.“

Her eyes wander back to Draco.

„You shouldn't stay here. It seems like you have build a respectable life in France. So go back to that. England isn't for you, Malfoy.“

I'm on her before Draco even takes a breath.

„Who the hell do you think you are, Hermione? It's not for you to decide where Draco belongs!“

My friends blinks at me.

„Harry, I'm in a leading position at the Department for Creatures. The moment I step out of this house and don't floo straight to the Ministry and report Malfoy, I am liable to prosecution. I would lose my job.“

I want to argue, to shout at her, but a pale hand on my forearm stops me.

„She is right, Harry.“ Draco's voice is gentle and breaks my heart right in two.

„No,“ I choke out.

„Yes. Teddy needs you. Your friends need you. My place is in France.“

Ron and Hermione stare at us, but I don't care.

They've just taken away my life line.

The day Draco leaves, I throw all my pride out of the window. I try convincing him with everything I have. First pleading. Then arguing over dinner, almost throwing dishes. Then seducing him. But he won't touch me. In the end, in the morning he's packing his suitcase, I'm back to begging.

I stare at him, crying.

„Please, Draco. Don't leave me. You said you wouldn't.“

He also said he didn't know if he could stay, but I ignore that.

„Please.“

Draco kisses me, one last time. My arms lock around his neck. I try wrapping my legs around his waist, but he pushes me away.

„I'm so sorry, Harry,“ he says and I think he's on the verge of tears.

But I never see them fall, because he turns away from me and walks out of the door.

I spend my days curled up in Draco's bed, even though it stops smelling like him sometime during the second day. I cry at first, then I'm too exhausted even for that. I don't eat and I only drink when I go to the bathroom.

On the third day, Ron and Hermione are knocking on my door, but I don't let them in. On the fifth day, the spell it open and invade my privacy.

„Mate, you have to get up,“ Ron says.

„You need to eat something, Harry,“ Hermoine pleads.

I ignore them both. I'm so mad at them, I can hardly stand to see their faces. I'm pining and hurting and feeling like I'm dying.

It's on the seventh day that finally, something changes. Part of the hurt and the pining transforms into a new feeling.

Anger. I'm angry at Draco. I'm angry at him for leaving me.

For not even trying. He's just like everybody else, even though he seemed so different in the beginning. With that realization, I wipe my tears away and get up.

I almost faint on my way into the kitchen, but I make it there and force some coffee and dry toast down my throat.

I miss Draco so much that it feels like my heart is an open wound.

But I also think I'm starting to hate him.

The clock is ticking in my kitchen, reminding me that time is passing. Reminding me that I've neglected my poor godson for a whole week.

Reminding me that the only people who never, ever betrayed or left me, are the ones I refused to see.

I take a shower and put on some fresh clothes. Then I floo straight into my best friends' living room.

Hermione squeaks as I arrive, sitting next to Rose on a blanket on the floor, reading something to the girl. As she sees me dusting my jeans off, she jumps up, running over. Hugging me.

„Oh, Harry. It's so good to see you.“

I hug her back, tightly, and feel most of the anger for her fading. Not all, but most.

She didn't have any idea what Draco meant to me when she told him to leave. She said what she thought was best.

„I'm sorry I ignored you,“ I say.

Hermione nods. „Why... did you never tell us about Malfoy?“

The name sends shocks of pain down my spine. I say hello to Rose, then sit down on Hermione's huge, cozy sofa.

„We didn't want to make it public. It wasn't official.“ I can tell what Hermoine is thinking. „But it wasn't like – like usually. It was more.“

Hermione sighs and puts a hand to my knee. Rose gurgles, but she ignores her.

„Harry, I love you. You know that. But I'm not sure I can trust you when it comes to this.“

I rake my hands through my hair.

„I know my taste is shit, but... Draco wasn't like the rest. Or so I thought.“

I can tell how much it takes Hermoine to let it go. _Not_ arguing is always difficult for her and this special topic never fails to get her hackles up, to make her angry until she's shouting at me.

„He was gentle,“ is all I say before we drop the topic.

„I'm really sorry for you. Honestly, Harry, I am. But I do think it's better this way.“

I don't think it's better this way. I think I'm slowly dying, wasting away. But I don't say it.

Instead, I nod and smile and pretend I wasn't falling to pieces.

* * *

„Anything else?“

The waitress smiles at me. Her curly hair is falling to her shoulders, almost like a little cloud around her head. With her round, almost black eyes and the full lips, she's gorgeous.

„No, thank you.“

She cleans my table and slips me her number. I almost sigh. Outside the café, where she can't see it, I dump it in the next trash can.

I have always loved the muggle city center of Montpellier, even though it's terribly touristic. The narrow streets and many cafés and shops enchant me.

Coming here usually relaxes me. It hasn't ever failed to – until now.

Even though he has never walked this street, never sat in any of the small cafés and closed his eyes, turning his face toward the sun, I see Harry everywhere.

I see him in the young man serving two girls espressos. I see him in the boyfriend of a pretty ginger, hands intertwined. I see him on a bike and in a car, flipping through a book and talking on the phone.

Upping my steps, I leave the old center and head toward the hospital.

I've been back here for two weeks now and I haven't slept through one night without dreaming of Harry.

As I said – he's everywhere.

I'm usually listening to music when I work on files in my office, but now, I can't do that anymore, because every song seems to be about Harry. My colleagues are starting to whisper behind my back. Two have already asked to my face if something is wrong.

I said no, nothing, even though everything is.

I meet with my French friends, go for dinner and drinks and walks in the park, but nothing helps. All I want to do is sleep and forget, but the fear of dreams keeps me awake.

I've thought about writing Harry several times, but in the end, I know that would only make it worse.

Sometimes, when I'm not occupied with thinking of Harry, I also think about Teddy. How he's doing.

Andromeda sends me letters with questions every other day and I answer them as detailedly as I can. It's not enough.

I don't miss England and its hostile stares, but I do miss Harry. More than I've ever missed anyone or anything. I honestly never knew you _could_ miss something like this.

Rationally, I know there was no other way. I couldn't have stayed. I'm not good for Harry. At least that's what I'm trying to tell myself.  
The problem is, deep down, I know I _am_ . Good for Harry, that is. I know what he needs. I want to give him what he wants, craves. I know he can give me evertyhing _I_ crave.

 _I couldn't have stayed_ , I remind myself and try to shake my sadness when I walk into the hospital again.

* * *

Hermione walks in on me way too early in the morning. I've tumbled into bed only two hours ago and my whole body is sticky and _hurts_. I know I still reek of sex and shame.

„It stinks in here,“ Hermione promptly comments and opens the window in my room.

„Why are you here?“ I ask bleary eyed.

„We're going for brunch today, don't you remember?“

„Ah, fuck.“

I rub my face.

„Don't sound so excited.“

I sigh and roll my eyes. „Where's Rose?“

„In her buggy in your living room.“

My head is spinning as I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. I'm still in jeans.

„Give me fifteen minutes.“

Hermione walks out of the room, not without throwing me another worried look.

Under the hot stream of water, I try not to flinch. My hips are bruised. So are my knees. I'm sore, so much so I seriously consider taking a potion to relieve the pain. I usually don't want that, but it's intense today.

Which only makes sense, since my pull yesterday meant it when he said he liked it rough. I mean, I asked for it. But then I wasn't quite prepared for what came afterwards.

Hermione drags me into a little wizarding café that apparently has brilliant pancakes. I very much hope they do, because I need something to cheer me up.

When Hermione has fed Rose some orange mash and a plate of pancakes appears in front of me, I drench it in syrup, watched by my friend.

„Have you started practicing already?“ she asks cautiously.

I nod. It's really the only thing productive I'm doing lately. Or, well. I am over at Teddy's almost every day too.

„Yes. I think it's going quite well.“

Hermione gifts me with a genuine smile. „That's great. I'm proud of you.“

I flush a little and stuff my mouth with pancake. „Sirius and my dad could do it when they were only teenagers. I should manage.“

„It is still difficult magic. And it took them a while to get it right.“

I shrug. „Yeah, I guess.“

I'm quiet for a moment, reaching for the syrup again. Hermione clicks her tongue, but doesn't comment.

„I just _really_ hope I won't turn into some useless animal. Like, a bird or something.“

„I don't think you'd be a bird,“ Hermione says, popping a blueberry into her mouth. „Just promise me to be careful, Harry.“

„Sure.“

I feed Rose a little bit of fruit from my plate, smiling at the adoring eyes she makes at me.

„You know... you don't _have_ to become and animagus. You know that, right?“

I look at Hermione, frowning. „What do you mean?“

She fiddles with her napkin, then snaps out of it and puts it back on the table.

„Just that Teddy doesn't _need_ you to go through that. You're not obliged to do it.“

„Yeah, I know. But I want to help.“

„I know, just...“

Hermione looks at me and I put my fork down, shocked at the intensity in her gaze. „Harry, are you okay? You just... you seem very upset.“

My chest falls, implodes. The open wound inside it pulses, oozing fresh blood.

„I'm okay,“ I say, not quite sure why I'm lying to her.

She reaches over the table, taking my hand.

„You know that we love you, right? Ron and I. We're here for you. If you need to talk – I'm here.“

I nod, throat tight.

„Even about Draco.“

I can tell how strange the name tastes on her tongue, but she says it anyway.

„Do you want to talk about him?“

I look at my plate, blood gushing down my belly.

„There isn't a lot to talk about.“

„I think there is, Harry. You haven't said anything at all about him.“

I shrug, eyes trained on my half eaten pancakes. „We had a thing. I thought it was more than just fucking. Then he left. End of story.“

Hermione hesitates. „Well, he didn't just leave. I told him he had to go.“

I still don't look at her. The syrup on my plate suddenly doesn't look appealing at all anymore. I imagine how it'll stick to my teeth, glue my mouth shut.

„He could have tried to stay. I begged him to.“

My voice is rough.

„Harry...“

„I just thought he was different, is all.“

I lift my gaze and try for a smile. It's obvious I fail.

„I really believe he might have stayed if it was possible.“

I frown. „But it _was_ possible. He's allowed in England. He could have talked to you. He knew I'd have moved heaven and earth to convince you to keep his secret.“

„And I would have,“ Hermione says quietly.

I nod, reach out and take her hand. I have to remember more often, _appreciate_ more often, how awesome my friends are. I always feel so alone, but I'm not. Not really.

„It's okay to miss him,“ she says.

„It's not like I don't think it's okay. It's simply... hard. Missing him.“

Now I can't look into her eyes anymore.

„I wish you'd stop sleeping with those blokes.“

I pull my hand away. „Sorry, but that's really none of your business.“

Hermione sighs and pushes her hair back. „I know, but... it's not good for you. You're... I don't know what you're doing, but it doesn't seem like fun to me. It seems like destroying yourself.“

Deep down, I know that my escapades with muggles are me searching for something I believe I won't ever find – that I don't deserve, yet _need_. But I'm not mature enough to own up to that. To try and change it.

Especially not since Draco is gone and certainly already sleeping with other people. The thought of him calling someone else _darling_ , petting someone else's hair, moving inside someone else's body, takes my breath away. It makes me sick.

„I think I want to go now,“ I say.


	8. Chapter 8

It's the weekend, I think, when Ron shows up at Grimmauld Place unannounced. I'm getting ready to have another bloke fuck my brains out until I can't walk anymore.

Ron's steps in the hallway make it clear that that will have to wait a moment longer.

„I thought we could get drinks tonight,“ he says, his blue eyes watching me as I put on my shoes.

„Sure,“ I say, really not sure if I'm in the mood for drinks with Ron. „But let's go somewhere muggle.“

Ron lets me side-along him from the nearest apparition point to a place just outside downtown muggle London.

The streets are crowded as I pull my best mate toward an old-fashioned bar I know sells the best Jackie Cola.

It smells like smoke and liquor when we enter and the music is loud, a comforting blanket muffling my thoughts.

We get drinks and then squeeze on a small table together.

At first, we're only chit-chatting and I pretend I wouldn't notice that Ron is trying to get me drunk enough to talk to him. I'm not quite sure why I'm letting him do it.

Maybe part of me needs to talk.

When the room has started swaying just a litte and my vision has narrowed to Ron, when people keep bumping into me and I can't sit still anymore, he asks: „Can you explain it to me? I mean,  _ Malfoy _ . He's literally the last person. Anyone else, I might understand. But Malfoy?“

„That's not true,“ I say.

I'm sure there are plenty people Ron wouldn't have understood. Afterall, many people have commited worse crimes than Draco.

„Is it because you like blokes that treat you like shit?“

I'm not sure I can explain to Ron that I don't actually like blokes that treat me like shit. I just always end up with them because my brain subconsciously thinks those are the ones I deserve. What I really  _ like  _ is... being appreciated. Cared for.

Something I only really learned through Draco.

„No,“ is all I say. „He was different. I know you don't believe that, but he was nice to me. Sweet, actually.“

I still remember that time we fucked in the kitchen so clearly. How genuinely upset Draco was when he noticed I didn't enjoy it as much as I usually did.

It wasn't like he had really hurt me. It was simply too little foreplay, too quick to really get into it.

No one has ever thought to apologize to me for not making me come. Draco apologized and then ate me out until I spoiled my kitchen table.

I'm not telling Ron that, of course. He might have a stroke if I did.

„It's... really hard to believe that. But...“

The ginger studies me. I'm too drunk to figure out what he is thinking.

„Were you, like, dating?“ he asks.

I shrug. Then shake my head. I reach for my glass and almost spill my drink as I lift it to my lips.

„No, but he always kissed me hello. And we cuddled after we fucked.“

Ron grimaces, but otherwise says nothing.

„I was stupid,“ I slur. „To believe this would be different. He always told me we couldn't be together.“

I snort and drain half my glass.

„Because he was a Death Eater and is a werewolf, blah blah blah. As if I couldn't handle him.“

Ron doesn't answer, but I hardly notice. I'm so drunk that the room is spinning now.

„I think I need to go to the bathroom.“

Ron takes me there and then he sits next to me in the dirty stall while I'm puking my guts out.

Teddy runs toward me when I open the door. I grin at him, pick him up and mess up his vibrant blue hair.

„How's it going?“

„Good,“ he says, wriggling until I put him down again. „I baked a cake with grandma. You wanna see?“

„For sure.“

I let my godson drag me into the kitchen. Since he's a werewolf, Teddy seems to have access to an infinite amount of energy at any time of the day. I know that Andromeda loves it, even though Teddy keeps her on her toes.

„Hello, Harry.“

She smiles at me as I enter the kitchen, which smells deliciously of sugar and bananas.

„Teddy said you baked?“

„We did. Banana muffins.“

I glance at the tray, already drooling.

„They have to cool first,“ Andromeda says.

Teddy tugs at my jeans.

„I wanna play football,“ he says. „In the yard.“

It's his new favorite activity and if he keeps it up, he'll soon be better than me.

„Go ahead already, I'll be with you in a second,“ I say.

When he has disappeared, I look at Andromeda.

„What is it?“

„I managed the spell,“ I say. „I'm an animagus now.“

A smile spreads over her face. „Harry, that is fantastic. I'm proud of you.“

She hugs me.

„What is it?“ she asks, still beaming.

I grimace. I know it could have been worse, but I also know that both my father and Sirius would have laughed if they knew.

„A cat,“ I say gloomily.

„How adorable.“

I glare at Andromeda and she chuckles.

„I think it's very fitting.“

„Very  _ fitting _ ? I'm nothing like a cat, Andi.“  


„Well, you're like a very cuddly cat. Not the aloof sort.“

My mouth falls open in indignation.

„I am  _ not _ .“

Andromeda just grins and pats my cheek. Then she frowns a little.

„Teddy won't hurt you, will he?“

I shake my head. „Werewolves don't attack animals, even when they're not on Wolfsbane.“

Reassured, Andromeda nods.

„What about a little demonstration, then?“ Her eyes are sparkling. I hesitate, then draw my wand and close my eyes. It hurts a little to transform, even though not as much as it does with Poly Juice.

„Merlin, aren't you cute.“

I glare at Andromeda, who now seems to be twelve feet tall. Humans feel like giants when you're a small black cat with green eyes.

During the next full moon, I stay by Teddy's side as a cat.

It works quite well, even though I still insisted we wouldn't leave Teddy's room for now. I want to make sure that he can control himself and listens to me first.

As a cat, Teddy doesn't necessarily respect me – but he wants to protect me. After a few minutes of irritation at having my godson viewing me as something small and precious that has to be handled with kid gloves, I adjust to it and realize it works in my favour almost as well as it would have if I turned into a huge bear.

I sleep away most of the next day in Andromeda's guest room. When I wake up, she cooks for me and Teddy.

I leave in the evening, Andromeda's warm voice still in my ears.

I should be happy now, I know that. I achieved something. Did something  _ good _ . 

But all I really want is to tell Draco all about it. Which I can't.

I come to a stop short before the apparition point. My chest tightens and a scream is rising in my throat. My hands curl into fists and my arms are shaking.

What is wrong with me? Why do I need this person that I have only really known for a few weeks so much?

I hate myself.

And I think I hate Draco almost as much.

I tilt my head up, looking at the clouds. At the quickly fading sunlight.

Draco obviously doesn't miss me the way I miss him. I should move on. I should  _ forget  _ him.

But I can't.

After three hours of pacing through my house, wanking on my bed to thoughts of Draco and then hating myself even more afterwards, I give in and get ready to go out.

Another long night in a stranger's arms awaits me.

* * *

I'm in my pajamas when it rings on my door.

Frowning, I get up from my bed, put down the book I was reading.

Instead of going out at a Friday night, I'm curling up in my flat, hiding behind book pages. Hoping they'll take me far enough away.

I remind myself at least five times a day that Harry is better off without me, that his friends hate me and there is no place for me in his life, to keep me from running back to England, showing up at Grimmauld and begging him to take me back.

I smooth down my shirt and open the door.

Granger is looking up at me, stains on her top and her hair in a messy bun. My eyebrow shoots up.

„Granger. What a surprise.“

„Hello,“ she says, a little squeakily. She clears her throat. „Can I come in?“

I move aside, trying to figure out why she's here. Perhaps she decided that it was wrong to keep my secret. What if she wants to tell my boss?

She's standing in my small living room, looking around. For a moment, I consider offering her something to drink, but it feels alien, so I don't.

„Well, what can I do for you?“

The Gryffindor turns and looks at me as I sit on the edge of the sofa.

„I wanted... I have to apologize. For what I said to you last time we saw each other. I think I spoke rashly.“

I have no idea what direction this conversation is going to take, so I'm silent.   
Granger sits down on the armrest of my armchair, crossing her arms. The gaze of her dark eyes is too intense for my tastes, but I meet it anyway.

„When I realized that you and Harry were... involved, I thought he was outdoing himself on his quest to find the worst men out there to use and abuse him.“

I can't help it – I flinch.

„Thank you, Granger.“

She ignores me.

„I thought that was why he was drawn to you. Harry always picks blokes that will treat him like trash.“

I swallow. I never talked to Harry about it, but I had my suspicions.

„But I think I was wrong about you. You're not like the others.“

„I never hurt Harry,“ I say quietly.

Granger frowns.

„Yes, you did. You left him.“

„You told me to,“ I snap.

„I know. That's why I'm here.“

Her eyes study my face.

„I'm still not quite sure what to make of it all – what to make of you. But I've realized that, whatever you and Harry had, it was real. And it's not my call to end it.“

I don't know what to say, so I just look at her in silence.

„Do you miss Harry?“

I want to lie. I want to stay silent. I want to tell her to leave.

What I say, is: „Every second.“

Granger nods slowly. Her piercing gaze almost reminds me of Dumbledore.

„If you want to come back, I won't hinder you. Neither will Ron, for that matter.“

I cross my arms and lean back.

„You two hate me.“

Granger's brows knit together. „No, we don't. We don't like you, but... I know what hate feels like and I know I don't hate you.“

I lower my gaze. „I would understand if you did. I've been... horrible to you.“

„Yes, you have. But Harry wouldn't miss you like he does if you hadn't changed.“

My eyes snap up. „He misses me?“

Granger inspects her nails. „If you're serious about him, you should come back.“

I uncross my arms and tilt my head. „I don't want to ruin his life.“

„Then don't.“

I huff impatiently. „If the press finds out about us, they'll never let us hear the end of it.“

„Harry doesn't care about that.“

I look away.

„My work is in France. My whole life is.“

„That's what portkeys are for, Malfoy. How do you think I got here?“

I glance up at her.

„Does he really want me to come back for him?“ I ask quietly.

Granger takes her time to answer. „Yes. But you should only do that if you're  _ certain _ , Malfoy.“

I look at my fingers, then back at her.

„It is one thing to be certain about what you want and another thing to be certain about if it's _right_.“

The ghost of a smile plays around Granger's lips.

„Harry doesn't need someone with a respectable reputation. He needs someone who is kind to him. Who appreciates him and knows  _ him _ , not just the idea of Harry Potter.“

I almost tell her that I  _ know  _ what Harry needs, better than her. But I bite my tongue.

What I don't tell her is that I'm scared of the way I feel about Harry. I'm scared of losing myself in him. Of losing him and ending up destroyed.

„Take your time to think about it. When you make a decision, it should be definite,“ Granger says.

Then she gets up and leaves my flat, as quickly and quietly as she entered it.

* * *

I'm sitting on the sofa in my living room, cross-legged, hands in my lap, staring at the wall. For at least forty minutes now, I'm trying to decide what would be worse: Sleeping alone in my empty bed the whole night or being fucked by some stranger for half of it.

Before I can make a choice, it knocks on the door. Faintly surprised, I get up. Only Ron and Hermoine visit me at Grimmauld and I thought they were planning on having dinner together, at home, when Rose is asleep.

But maybe they changed their plans or perhaps it's Ginny on one of the rare occasions that she gets bored.

I open the door and almost pass out.

It's not Ginny, or Ron, or Hermoine.

It's Draco, looking at me out of those grey eyes that haunt me. My mouth is dry. My head is spinning and my knees want to buckle.

„Draco.“

„Hi, Harry.“ He sounds shy, almost.

„What... why are you here?“

He takes a breath. „I'm here for you.“

„For me? Why...“

My brain doesn't work anymore. It can't come up with an explaination. It doesn't understand what is happening.

„Can I come in?“

Wordlessly, I step aside.

Watching Draco putting his coat on my coat rack is like the most painful déjà-vu I've ever had.

„Why are you here?“ I ask again.

I stare up at him, my heart racing in my chest. The Slytherin meets my gaze.

„I'm sorry for leaving, Harry. I missed you.“

I almost start crying, but I force myself not to. I force myself to remember all those horrible weeks alone. The weeks I missed him, because he decided I wasn't worth staying for.

„I'm here because... I can't get you out of my head. And I still think that you shouldn't have to deal with all the shit attached to my name, but I also think that no one matches better with you than I do.“

My mouth opens. No sound comes out.

Draco reaches out, takes my hands.

„I'm really, really sorry. I know I hurt you. I... didn't know what to do. I thought this was for the best, returning to my old life and letting you live yours, but I just... I'm not strong enough to.“

I swallow thickly. His skin on mine makes it hard to think.

„You hurt me,“ I say.

Draco closes his eyes for a brief moment.

„I know.“

„You... how do I know you're serious?“

„Let me prove it to you.“

We look at each other. I'm not sure what I'm looking for in his eyes, but I feel like I find it.

„I can't do this again,“ I say. „If you do this to me again, I... It felt like dying, Draco.“

Draco's usually so composed face cracks. The pain is clearly written all over his features and the open wound in my chest starts to heal.

I can't say no to him. I know that perfectly well.

„If you're not planning on staying for good, you should leave now,“ I say urgently.

„I do plan on staying for good,“ he whispers and that's when I kiss him.

I know I'm taking a risk, but I also know that it's worth it. Draco's arms around me, his lips on mine, it all feels like coming home.

We kiss until the heat is too much to bear. He drags me to the sofa and we crash there in a tangle of limbs, almost rolling off it. Laughing together.

I'm not sure if he uses magic or just his hands, but next I know, we're naked. I gaze into his grey eyes, my hands running over his chest, his shoulders.

His long fingers find a faded bruise on my ribs.

„Where's that from?“ he whispers.

„Doesn't matter.“

I kiss him again and we find out rhythm, moving together until the heat becomes unbearable, movements frantic.

I planned to come with him deep inside me, but instead, I spill over his taut, pale stomach, his gaze hot on me. With clumsy hands, I make him follow me over the edge.

He pulls me close and I push one of my legs between his and grope for my wand, summoning a blanket. Draco pulls it over both of us, his hands carding through my hair.

„Granger talked to me. She said you missed me.“

I tense.

„I'm glad she did. I thought you might be better off without me,“ he adds.

I roll my eyes. „Then you're an idiot.“

He smiles, hands still in my hair. It feels so good, I think I might pass out from bliss.

„She also said your taste in men is horrible.“

I really need to have a word with Hermione on disclosing personal information.

„You're living proof of that, I guess.“

„Git.“

I smile against his chest.

„I take it you slept with other people while I was gone?“

I prop myself up and frown at him.

„That's a very polite term to describe it.“

I watch him.

„You were gone,“ I say.

„I'm not accusing you.“

I study his face. „I bet you've had sex with plenty guys.“

A blond brow rises high. „No, I haven't. I... didn't see the point.“

My heart clenches. Draco's thumbs caress my cheeks.

„I'm not mad or anything. I'm aware I have no right to complain. But from now on, I want to be the only one you fuck. Or make love to. Or sleep with. All of it. I want you to do it only with me.“

A smile spreads over my face and I lean down to kiss him.

„Want to start now?“ I ask as I pull back slightly.

Draco grins and flips us over, then takes my wand and conjures lube. There is something very sexy about the ease with which he uses my wand.

When his fingers find my entrance, I clutch at his shoulders.

„If you leave tomorrow...“

„I won't.“

The first finger slips inside me and I arch my back. Still, I can't quite let go of the tension. Can't relax.

I never could all those last weeks.

Draco kisses the corner of my mouth. „I've got you, darling. You can let go now.“

My eyes flutter shut.

„Did you know...“

„What?“

A second finger slips inside me and I can't help but clench again. Instead of forcing it, the finger disappears.

„I'm an animagus now,“ I say.

„Really?“

A kiss is dropped to my collarbone. When Draco's tongue flicks over one of my nipples, I moan, winding my fingers in his hair.

„Yeah,“ I breathe.

„What animal are you?“

Dumb of me, not to expect that question. But I'm rather distracted with his finger inside me.

„A – a cat.“

Draco chuckles against my chest.

„Why am I not surprised?“

He moves up a little and mouths at my neck.

„Why is everybody saying that? I'm not like a cat at all!“

My eyelids flutter shut as my head automatically tilts back. Draco grins, lips against my jaw.

„Like a kitten,“ he says, kissing the sensitive place right under my ear.

I blush and try to object, but the second finger pushes inside again and he twists it just so, hitting the spot dead-on. All I can do is moan.

„Kitten,“ Draco whispers, still grinning.

I want to tell him he's a git, but I can't form words. I can only arch my back and spread my legs, aching for more. For closer.

„Draco,“ I pant into his mouth. His eyes are dark with lust, his pupils blown.

„Yes, darling?“

„I –  _ please _ .“  


He doesn't need me to ask twice or beg more. I think he casts the protection spells, but I'm too far gone to be sure, then I feel him pushing at my opening.

My eyes are closed as he slowly pushes inside me – burning, but not hurting the way it sometimes does. I want this so much. Want him.

„Harry, look at me.“

I open my eyes and gaze into grey ones, fixed on me. As if I was the only thing that matters.

I draw my knees up higher, urging him closer.

„Fuck me.“

He does and my mouth falls open when he finds my prostate on the third thrust. My head falls back and I can't look at him anymore, my eyes closing. I clutch at his shoulders, scratch his back.

I surprise him when I come, and his eyes roll back, his thrusts erratic, as he spills inside me.

He collapses on top of me, our bodies glued together by sticky fluids. Neither of us minds.

„Merlin, I've missed you.“

Draco carefully pulls out, his hand petting my thigh. My eyes follow his every move. Scared he'll leave now.

Draco just smiles and kisses me.

„How about a nap and then I make you dinner?“

I hide my smile in his chest. „Sounds good to me.“

**Epilogue**

The hot July sun is illuminating little pieces of fluff in the air, making my living room stuffy and stale, no matter how far or often I open the windows. I'm sitting cross-legged on my sofa, watching the fluff, juggling my right thigh and listen to my heart fluttering.

The second I hear a knock, I jump up, race to the door. Rip it open.

Draco smiles at me. „Hey, darling.“

I'm kissing him before he can say anymore, pulling him inside the house by his collar. „You look grey,“ I say, kissing his cheek. „Are you feeling okay?“

Full moon has been two days ago and, as always, I wasn't with Draco. It's killing me, knowing I always leave him alone when he needs me most.

But Teddy needs me even more, both Draco and I know that, so that's why I'm not in Montpellier during full moon, but in London. 

„I'm fine,“ Draco says, smiling. He doesn't take off his coat. I'm a touch disappointed.

„Do you have to work later today? Are we leaving now?“

It's not that I care much. I love Montpellier. I never cared much for France before – didn't know anything about it, really – but with Draco, I like everywhere.

So, it's not like I'm opposed to leaving for Montpellier right now, but I was kind of hoping Draco wouldn't be working today.

„We're leaving, yes.“

Draco's hands are on my cheeks and he smiles the way he always does when we see each other again after being separated for that week during full moon. Bitten back, just a little, but bright as the sun. 

I'm the moon – only shining because of him.

I turn my face in his palm and lightly nip on his finger. „You sure I can't convince you to shag me on the kitchen counter first?“

I really liked that the last time we did it. I'm rather sure Draco did, too.

The Slytherin's eyes darken a bit, but he shakes his head. „Maybe later. We've got plans.“

„Do we?“

He just smiles. „Put on your shoes and come with me.“

Our first stop turns out to be a small bakery. Draco buys us croissants (even though, for once, we're not surrounded by French people) and I watch him in amusement as he orders hot chocolate and then complains it would be too sweet.

„The chocolate is fine, Draco,“ I say and take his hand. Smile at him.

Draco takes a deep breath. Then I get to see one of his  _ not-more-often-than-once-a-month  _ expressions. He's looking embarrassed.

„I just really want today to be perfect.“

He stops, still in front of the bakery. „Happy Birthday, Harry.“

My cheeks flame bright red, so I roll my eyes. „I don't care about birthdays.“  


„I do.“

He kisses me and my heart is pounding. I'm not even sure why I lied to him. 

Of course I care about birthdays. Back when I was younger, my friends' birthday presents were all that got me through the endless dark summer.

„So, your plans were getting hot chocolate at a bakery?“ I ask. „Because then I liked my plans better.“

Draco arches a brow. „Patience is a virtue, Potter.“

„I never claimed to be virtuous.“

Somehow, that makes Draco smile again and he kisses me chastely. Against my lips, he whispers: „Oh, I know you're not.“

Before I can come up with a snide remark, Draco pulls back, takes my hand and leads me into a small alley. 

He slips one elegant hand into the pocket of his posh trousers. When he pulls it out again, something golden is glittering between his fingers.   


„Is that my Time Turner?“

I left it at Draco's before I returned to London for the full moon.

„Yes.“

I tilt my head and look at Draco curiously. He's already looking very smug – more so than usually.

„When are we going?“ 

„Oh, almost a year back,“ he says, grinning, clearly enjoying having me tapping in the dark.

„Why? Where do you want to go?“

„It's a surprise.“ Draco's grin widens even more. „Are you ready?“

„I'm not so sure,“ I say, but take his hand anyway. 

Of course I do.

It's almost like we didn't go back in time at all. The sun is still hot and the streets still busy.

„Come on.“ Draco grabs my hand and I've rarely seen him so excited as he pulls me through the streets to the next apparition point.

„You're really not going to tell me what we're doing here?“

Draco just smiles. „You'll see in a second.“

The fair takes place on a usually wide, open space – now crowded with witches and wizards.

I spin around to Draco. „Is this...?“

„It's the fair you attended with Teddy.“

I frown. „Draco, that's... I think this is a bad idea. If I'm not crazy, then there are now four of me running around this place. Sounds catastrophical.“

„I think there are only three. And one of the other two Harrys is supposed to see you.“

For a moment, I stare at him. Blankly. 

Then, the penny drops.

„You think – my memory. Or, like... what I saw in the past. That was – now? Us, from the future?“

Draco shifts his weight a little, the only sign of his nerves. „Yes. I think you saw us.“

„But... why? I mean, why...“ My brain is already in knots. „Why would we go back here and have me see us?“

Draco steps closer, mostly not to get run over by a pack of screaching kids. The smell of popcorn hangs in the air, making me nostalgic.

„If you hadn't seen us back then, do you think we'd be here today?“

I search his grey eyes. „I... don't know.“

„I think not. So – where exactly did you see us?“

We make our way through the crowd, past several booths with silly games or delicious food that makes me drool. 

„We can get some later,“ Draco says. I plan to take him up on that.

„I think it was here.“

I pull Draco behind a booth. We're not necessarily hidden, but most people pass us without noticing we're here. The grass under my feet is soft and the smell of chips and metal is mixing as I breathe in deep.

Draco cocks his head. Raises one brow. „Were we just standing here? Relaxing behind this... lovely booth?“

He eyes the grimey back of the booth suspiciously. My heart kicks into overdrive, which is stupid. 

„No,“ I say.

Draco steps closer. His eyes are shining. „No? What were we doing, then?“

„We...“ I blink up at him. Put a hand on his chest. 

He's grinning now. So fucking smug, the bastard. „We were making out, weren't we?“

I just glare at him. Nod once.

Draco snickers. „Salazar, Potter. You watched us making out and lost your shit about it. Why?“

It's a stupid question. „Because I hated you back then?“

The Slytherin crowds in closer, until my back hits the booth. I stare into his grey eyes and think that I never knew  _ always  _ can be a feeling.

„Not because we look so good together?“

Draco's voice has dropped, sending pleasant shivers down my spine. „I think it was both,“ I say quietly.

Draco rests his forehead against mine. Up close like this, his face loses its sharp edges. He's all huge, grey eyes and white skin. 

„Then I'm afraid I'll have to kiss you now,“ he says, one fingertip tracing over my cheek. „How very unfortunate.“

Before I can retort, he's on me, soft, urgent lips, hands on my hips.

I'm kissing Draco Malfoy on a fair, behind a booth selling sweets for children, and I think I've never been happier.

We kiss until our mouths are numb.

„You think you saw us?“ Draco murmurs, his bose brushing against my cheek. His lips on my temple make me close my eyes. Smile.

„Probably. But it wouldn't hurt to make sure, would it?“

„I assume not.“

By the time we stumble out of our little hiding place, I'm high on endorphines and hungry as hell.

„You promised me sweets,“ I remind Draco and he laughs, intertwining our fingers.

„How old are you again?“

Armed with a small paper bag of chocolate fruits, Draco and I stroll over the fair, attracting some looks. Not giving a fuck about it.

„Are you coming back to mine tonight?“ I ask him when the sun goes down.

Draco throws a look at me, beautiful in the fading light.

„Of course. Unless you want to go back to Montpellier tonight.“

I shrug, feeling so at ease that it almost uneases me.

„I don't care as long as you sleep in my bed tonight.“

I miss him every night he doesn't. One forth of the month, I have to spend alone. A couple more nights whenever he has night shift.

Draco's grey eyes have a hard time looking into mine. That happens sometimes. Whenever he's afraid he might give away too much.

„I will,“ he says.

_ Always _ , he means.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments are so, so great - I'd love to hear your thoughts!


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